Unstoppable
by ciel blackblood
Summary: "Today's afternoon snack is brioche accompanied by tea. My mistress is about to arrive from school, so please, allow me to dispose of you." A small polite smile sat on his lips as he tightened his gloves. "Forgive me for being rude." The last thing he saw was a white-gloved fist.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_'All men are not equal'_

_This was the truth he knew since he was five years old._

_In a world filled with the extraordinary, the wonderful, the terrifying, the weak die and the strong live. Those with power flourish, and those without flounder to rise from their status._

_In a world where power was everything, as one who had nothing, this would have been a death sentence._

_Once upon a time, this would have been a story of one who had no power earning his right to it. He would be the bearer of a legacy spanning centuries. This would have been a story of adventure and friendship; of growth..._

_Sadly, this is not his story._

_Heavy breathing echoed and shadows danced as he ran. Faster and faster he ran down the twisting and turning alleys desperate to escape._

_Run..._

_He could still hear her voice. Terrified eyes shining with tears stared into his as the screams played in his mind in a horrible loop. He could see her, his mother, pushing him away and emerald fire obscured her as they fed on her flesh and bones._

_He covered his ears as he ran hoping to block out her final screams and his heart ached at her agonizing end. The villain's laughter filled his ears at his mother's death and rage grew in his chest._

_He wanted to go back and beat him up._

_He wanted to rip him to shreds-limb to limb._

_He wanted to KILL HIM._

_But he knew, it was impossible. He was too weak. If he were to go back, he would only get killed. He would be wasting the life that his mother tried so hard to preserve; he would not let her effort be in vain._

_So preoccupied was he in stopping his tears and running that he had missed the hand reaching for him._

_"What do we have here?"_

_He felt a hard yank on his collar and his feet left the ground._

_"A rat running for his life?"_

_He was choking as he was lifted into the air but he could still recognize the mocking amusement from the voice._

_A hand gripped his head and he had to stifle a cry of pain as he faced its owner._

_Green and Black filled his vision and the simmering rage in his chest exploded into a fiery inferno._

_The man-for it was a man with how broad its shoulders were and how deep its voice was-was decked in a black ensemble of a simple shirt and cargo pants with a green highlight so dark it blended among the black background and a forest green trenchcoat on his shoulders._

_Black hair that was cut unevenly short sat atop his head and his face was a cruel caricature of a man in his mid thirties. His expression lighting up with a sadistic glint._

_He recognized him._

_He recognized this man._

_How could he not, when this man was the reason his mother was DEAD!_

_With the fires of hatred in his belly, he fought back as hard as he could. Punching, kicking and screaming for all he was worth to at least hurt the man to give back a taste of the suffering his mother experienced. And yet..._

_He had the gall to LAUGH._

_A slap to the cheek ceased his efforts as he tried to shake off the pain and the darkness creeping into his vision._

_"You got some spunk in you rat! I like that."_

_He knew he was losing consciousness and valiantly he tried to fight of the darkness creeping in. It was an effort in futility as he felt the world began to dim. Colors lost their vibrancy and the flames surrounding them grew dim._

_The last thing he heard was the murderer's despicable voice._

_"You may be worth something, rat. So I will let you live for now. A lot of people are interested in buying a worthless thing like you. Worthless... right as long as your with me, that is who you are: DEKU. Hahaha!"_

_Darkness covered him and despair clouded his heart as he lost the battle, losing consciousness knowing that the next time he woke, things would never be the same again._

_He hated him._

_He hated his father._

_He hated Hisashi Midoriya._

Soft snoring could be heard as a figure shifted beneath the sheets. A door opened quietly and a person entered the sanctuary. Softly as if on padded feet, they approached the shifting figure. In three strides they had crossed the room and approached the bed side chuckling under their breath at the figure's disheveled state.

A hand reached out towards their cheek before stopping abruptly. With a soft shake of their head they moved back and in an abrupt move opened the heavy curtains.

Light poured into the room illuminating it and exposing beautiful yet simple decorations.

The man, who was wearing a crisp black tuxedo with a white undershirt and black tie, pulled out a golden pocket watch and checked the time.

"Good morning, young miss. It is a wonderful day today don't you think?"

A groan voiced out in reply.

"Come now, it is not good to be lazy. It is already bright out, yes?" he said.

"Please be quiet. Don't you think it is a bit too early?"

Though groggy from being pulled from sleep, one could not deny that it was beautiful and possessing a melodius lilt.

Appearing from the thick coverings was a waterfall of onyx black hair framing a white, oval face. Cat like eyes narrowed in the direction of the man in annoyance.

"Couldn't you have given me five more minutes before pulling the curtains apart?"

She said in what she thought to be an intimidating and authoritative tone; to him, who had grown accustomed to whims and wants and her habits, all she seemed like was an annoyed kitten.

A brief smile crossed his face before schooling it into a pleasant but neutral facade. Although, it would seem he was not fast enough if the increasing irritation in the lady's face said anything.

A thrown pillow was gracefully dodged as he went on towards the dressing table. Reaching inside a drawer, he pulled out a hairbrush and turned towards his lady once more.

"I'm afraid I must insist, my lady," he said somewhat amused with her morning antics.

"Today is a school day is it not? It would not be good if my lady were to be late."

She stared at him for a minute, most probably contemplating whether it was worth going back to sleep or to prepare for the day. In less than a minute she gave a soft grunt and stood up from her bed.

'As always, milady is quite amusing in the mornings.'

Patiently he waited as his mistress approached her vanity; watching with slightly pink cheeks.

'And as always, milady's night wear is really too daring!'

She was wearing a sheer red nightgown with lacy ribbons at the top of her chest and at bottom that only reached her hips. It was more fitting to call it a lingerie considering how much of her figure it showed. Truly it only properly covered her chest and matching panties covered her lower regions.

He knew that he should have been used to this already especially since they had known each other since they were young, but he thinks that he really would not be no matter how long it takes.

He tried to hide his embarrassment and flushed cheeks but he caught sight of her light smirk and flushed even harder. She knew that he had not gotten used to her choice of dress for the night and that even he was not immune to her charms no matter how long they have known each other.

She really loved teasing him, he thought.

"Oh, stuff it."

Pouting, he moved aside and stood behind her as she sat on the vanity seat. Even as she let out a tittering laugh, he only pouted harder.

After all, wasn't it somewhat unfair?

His mistress was widely acknowledged as someone who was exceedingly beautiful. Her long black hair, her onyx eyes and noble face partnered with her body which was more voluptuous than any other girl her age, her tall and graceful stature, his mistress was capable of turning heads both male and female alike.

He recognized as he began their daily morning ritual and brushed her hair that, truly, Momo Yaoyorozu was a beauty without peer.

And that he, Izuku Midoriya, was lucky to be her butler.


	2. Chapter 1

**HEROES RISE ARC PART 1**

_SMACK!_

_The heavy sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed into the wide room. He fell to the ground with a resounding thud as he gasped trying to breathe air._

_"Get up."_

_A blur appeared at the corner of his eyes and he hurriedly rolled on the ground and stood up, narrowly dodging the kick sent to his head. Cold sweat dripped from his brow as he realized that with its speed and angle, he would have been lucky if all he got was a concussion._

_"You have no time to dilly-dally boy! No enemy will wait around while you catch your breath!"_

_Once more he moved to the side dodging a heavy fist that narrowly grazed his cheek; the resulting air pressure ruffled his hair._

_Once more, he was thrust upon a desperate situation that had his instructor try to kill him with the most interesting moves in his arsenal in the name of training. He was expected to do well and fight back but his instructor was not holding back and was using his quirk: Red Flush, allowing him to over-saturate his body with a highly nutritious substance carried by his blood that increases his overall strength, speed and stamina._

_Ting_

_The light chime of metal reminded him of the reason why he was not able to fight back as hard as he should have. Black steel manacles that had short chains were wrapped around his wrists and ankles._

_Quirk Inhibitors._

_Devices that when attached to a person disrupted their quirk factors from properly functioning by blasting an interfering frequency at close range. He did not know how they got this piece of technology especially since they were exclusively used by the police force._

_"WHERE ARE YOU LOOKING?!"_

_His instructor roared out in fury before he felt a punishing fist smash his nose in. Such was the strength carried by the punch that he was sent flying to a wall that was 15 meters away. He slammed into it with such force that he felt 4 of his ribs break._

_But no sound or cry of pain escaped his mouth._

_"PATHETIC! WHAT IS WITH THIS PERFORMANCE BOY!?"_

_He was pulled up with a fist clenched with his hair. It stung like no other but his face did not change from its previous dead and blank expression._

_"I was tasked with training you boy," he could smell the foul breath as he was brought closer to his instructor's face._

_"My boss bought you since he thought he saw potential and a use for you, boy. If I were you, I would do my best not to prove him wrong. The boss does not deal well with disappointment!"_

_He was thrown on his back and he had to roll away from a stomp as it crushed the concrete where his head once was._

_"AGAIN!"_

_Once more, the vicious cycle of dodge-dodge-get beat up-dodge began once more._

_The pains in his body were getting more and more pronounced as time passed. They were getting aggravated by his frantic movement._

_He hated this._

_He could still remember what life once was before this but it was slowly getting murkier. He could still remember his mother's face but not her reassuring voice. He could still remember his friend's name but not their face. He could remember the good feelings his memories evoked but not the memories themselves-at least not accurately._

_But he could still remember his mother being burned alive. He could still remember the smoldering hatred that even now burned cold in his chest that hungered for the blood of his 'father'. He could still remember when he was brought, bruised and bloody, to that forgettable warehouse where he was presented to a crowd like livestock in a market. He remembered how he was bought._

_It was burned into his memory._

_As he tried to force his beaten up body to fight back, he had to wonder, in the months he had spent in this hell, he had already forgotten a significant portion of his life from before; will he still be able to remember who he was by the time he could escape this place?_

_Will he still remember who Izuku Midoriya is?_

_Or will all that remain be DEKU?_

_()_

Momo Yaoyorozu knew she was blessed.

She was rich, her parents-though frequently busy- always made time for her and loved her. She lived in a nice house, all her needs and wants were accounted for. She had great beauty and she knew that she would only grow more beautiful as she aged if her mother was anything to go by. She was powerful, blessed with a great quirk that she wanted to use for the good of society.

She knew she was sheltered. She knew that although she was smart enough to have graduated college twice over, she was naive to the ways of the world.

She just wished she didn't have to mingle with her so called 'Peers' in high society in these meaningless parties.

Everything here was all a waste of time in her opinion, but her parents insisted that this was necessary to build connections for the future. She was raised to be perceptive in order to lead the family business when the time comes, and all she can see are masks.

It disgusts her.

All these lies surrounding her, she cannot stand it.

"Your face is getting scary, you know?"

A voice said.

A flute of sparkling cider was held next to her face and following the hand holding the beverage to her, was a young man in a finely tailored charcoal three piece suit with a blue and white striped tie. He had green side swept hair and a familiar emerald gaze. An easy going smile was on his face as he stood by her side; a tinkling sound coming from his left cross-shaped chain earring as he tilted his head to her.

"Your eyes were getting more and more pointed into a glare and you were scaring some of the kids you know? See?"

Taking the drink, she turned her gaze as she saw that indeed, she had scared some of the children. Her cheeks heating up in embarrassment, she turned her head away and tried to hide her pink cheeks by drinking the proffered flute of sparkling cider.

"May I know what has gotten you to think so deeply, Milady?" he asked as he too took a sip from his own glass.

"Nothing," Momo replied. "I was just thinking about somethings."

Izuku hummed as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He may be a mere butler, but the sir and madam had tasked him to keep Momo safe and as a butler and her friend, he will make sure she was safe from any and all threats.

Especially from those from the same heirarchy.

Perhaps a lesson was needed?

"How long have we known each other, Momo?"

She raised a brow with his sudden change of address. Izuku calling her by name was a rare occurrence and in the time they had been together, calling her by any other title other than milady or mistress is as rare as the blue moon.

_... The time they had been together..._

The stray thought caused her to blush, causing her to hide the fact under the act of drinking from her flute.

"Since we were children no doubt," Izuku continued oblivious to the strange thought that went through her head. "We had known each other for so long, so I believe that I can at least tell when something is bothering you."

Hm.

Truly, she can hide nothing from him.

Momo smiled fondly at him and at his concern. He had been with her for as long as she can remember. He was her confidant, her friend, her mentor, her guide, and when things were rough, he was her pillar. Izuku had always been there for her.

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Too late for that now."

A smirk was on his face as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"It was nothing really." she mused as she kept her gaze forward to the crowd. "I was just lamenting that even though the people here wear no masks, I feel as if we are in a masquerade."

"That is quite a well thought out analogy, milady." Izuku praised. "You have been learning well in your lessons in social analysis."

A masquerade was a good analogy for the party they were currently attending as representatives of Mr. and Mrs. Yaoyorozu. The sir and madam had been unable to attend due to an urgent matter in regards to the company. They had delegated Momo to attend on their behalf.

Momo would have declined but this was a fairly important ball-one sponsored by the Mayor of Musutafu-and as the heiress of one of the largest conglomerates in the world whose headquarters was based in the city, it was her duty to attend.

Though there were no masks and even if this was no masquerade ball, their smiles of pleasant, plated gold hid deceit and hidden agendas pushed by vicious-and sometimes, desperate-greed. They may be men and women dressed in lavish wear but to him, they were all starving wolves in sheep's clothing.

Even if she had gone far with her studies in analysis and politics, Momo felt that she was not ready to be in this environment where desire runs rampant.

"Since the beginning," she whispered. "I have the feeling like this is a den of starving wolves."

These were people who would not be afraid to use her for all that she was worth and throw her away like garbage once they have run out of uses for her.

Momo felt an arm wrap around her waist and instinctively, she leaned her back to his chest. To any other person, such an intimate act would have mistaken them for lovers but to the both of them, this was merely a gesture of comfort. There were no secrets between them, and closeness has never been a question. Such intimacy had been a part of their interaction since their childhood.

"Are you afraid, milady?"

Izuku whispered as he lowered his head; his breath tickling her ear. She flushed red all the way down to her neck as she felt her chest beat erratically.

"I am."

Momo replied, unable to lie even as her servant took her hand and gently lead her to the center of the room together with other people who wished to dance. Her eyes never left his even as people began to take notice of the only daughter of the Yaoyorozu being led by a youth of the same age; one that the other guests did not recognize.

"Then shall I teach you," he asked as he stopped at the center of the dance floor. "How to not be afraid?"

She smiled as he took her hand in his and as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and neck. Her stomach fluttered when once again she felt him wrap his arm around her waist. She almost giggled when she felt the somewhat possessive hold his hand had on her lower back.

"Yes please," she answered as she pressed herself closer to his space; standing chest to chest and their faces close that they can feel their breath upon their lips. A mischievous smirk appeared on Izuku's face as he noticed the reactions her action had gathered.

He then began to lead her into the dance, keeping his eyes on her own at all times and at the same time keeping his senses sharp for danger.

After all, a butler's duty is never done.

"Tell me, how far along are you in your studies in social politics?" Izuku twirled her to the beat of the music as they freely made use of the available space on the floor.

"Just basic etiquette at the moment." Momo replied as she leaned back into him, swaying to the music.

"Then, are you familiar with the concept of a 'False Face'?"

"A false face?" her eyes questioning as she had never heard that term before.

A sharp change in the music's tempo led to a faster rhythm as they danced to the beat. They never noticed, engrossed as they were with each other's company and discussion, that everyone had already left the center floor and were currently spectating their dance.

"In this den of wolves, the only way to survive is through a show of power," his arms wrapped around her stomach and her back leaned into his chest even as their hands never left the other's grasp; falling once more to the rise and falls of the music.

"In this high society, the only way to do this, is through charisma so captivating that even enemies cannot resist but be charmed and follow you," the image of the world's greatest hero, All Might, flashed through her mind. "Or a presence and influence so great and powerful, that people fear you the most."

A shadow emerged from her memories; a figure that stood out in a dark, unforgettable contrast to the memories of her childhood.

_Heavy._

_A Will so heavy that she felt it would have crushed her._

_A Presence so thick with a promise that she could not breathe._

_It was a promise of Defeat to his enemies, of Destruction of all he hates._

_Standing against it was another Declaration to all that he would bring under his wing: Victory._

Momo brought herself out of reminiscence as Izuku dipped her; a smooth leg peeked out of the slit of her dress as she put a single step back.

"Currently, you do not have the necessary charisma to be well-respected, nor do you have the presence needed to terrify those surrounding you nor do you have the ability to weave your words like webs to deceive your prey." Izuku continued as he brought her back to her previous position.

She would have felt insulted at his assessment had it not been the truth. Although she was the daughter of an influential family and would one day wield that influence herself, she knew that there were still a lot of things she had to learn.

"Then what should I do?" she asked.

"Smile," he replied with a wide grin on his own face. "While I have no doubt that one day, you will possess undeniable charisma or even an influence greater than your enemies, that is not today. With your intelligence milady, one day you will also be able to weave your own web of deception but that too, is not today."

Her breathing was slightly heavy with exertion and a light flush covered her from head to toe but she could not stop the smile on her face as her servant brought her closer to him with nary a gap between their bodies as the music slowed to a stop.

"That is why you must smile. You cannot charm your enemies, nor can you terrify them or even deceive them at your current level, but you can do one thing: deceive yourself. Smile and hide your opinions your emotions and fool yourself with your most genuine smile; bring yourself closer to your perfected, ideal persona."

The music stopped and there was a beat of silence.

Then, it was shattered with an overwhelming applause. For the guests who had attended this gathering it was easily the most interesting thing that happened tonight. They were showing appreciation for a wonderful display of skill yet the main stars of the night paid no heed to the applause other than a short bow to the other as they left the dance floor.

As she was led towards the other guests by her friend, Momo internalized the lesson imparted to her. Wrapping her arm on his elbow and resting her hand on his forearm, Momo smiled her most genuine smile even when she wanted to shudder in disgust as their eyes leered at her body.

She was dressed in a long, flowing, ankle length, backless red gown with a high slit down its side that exposed her leg and a window at the front that exposed her sizable cleavage. Her hair had been styled into wavy curls that fell like a curtain, covering her exposed back.

Goosebumps broke on her skin and Momo tightened her hold on Izuku's arm even as they began to mingle with the crowd. Momo buried her disgust and unease, displaying a bright smile even as she conversed with the leering men and women; she took comfort in the way that some would randomly begin to sweat unnaturally.

She could always rest easy knowing that her butler would always protect her.

_"You cannot charm your enemies, nor can you terrify them or even deceive them at your current level, but you can do one thing: deceive yourself. Smile and hide your opinions your emotions and fool yourself with your most genuine smile."_

Relaxing her body against his, she might as well practice her skills now, right? After all, if she did make a mistake, she can always rely on her perfect butler to cover her. As if hearing her thoughts, she could feel the shoulder she was resting her head on minutely shake and she could see faint amusement on his face.

_'Well, the night has just begun.'_

_()_

"That was exhausting," she sighed.

Momo leaned against the balcony railing connected to the party hall facing the garden. It had only been an hour at the most since the dance and the subsequent mingling she was obliged to do and she couldn't help but feel as if she had been running a marathon.

"Good work, milady."

Izuku, as always, was a step behind her.

"Even if this had been your first time doing this, you had done admirably well."

He knew that putting on a false face-even one as amateurish as his mistress's-was always exhausting. Lying to others is easy but to lie to oneself; trying to silence the voice at the back of their head, to deceive your mind even as one kept knowledge of the lie, it is terribly draining. His Lady had done well indeed to last for so long to continue her obligations in events such as these.

"Thank you, Izuku."

Though she did not show it, Momo was terrified when she went to this event. Even though this was not her first time attending an event, one or both of her parents was always there to accompany her. This had been the first time that neither were there.

This was why she was quite grateful that her butler was with her.

His company had been comforting as she traversed the various proposals-both business and personal alike-made by the various guest. She knew that Izuku was also quite wise so his various advice were very much appreciated; the lesson given to her earlier was an excellent example.

Wind blew and she shivered lightly.

_'That's right, summer's about to pass. The 3rd year of Middle School is about to start, huh...'_

She heard the rustling of cloth before she felt something settle around her shoulders. Momo turned around and saw that Izuku had taken off his jacket and was now standing in just a white shirt and gray waistcoat.

"Aren't you going to get cold?" she asked even as she pulled the coat tighter around her frame.

He chuckled and a teasing glint appeared in his eyes.

"You're not one to talk when your shivering like that."

She said nothing as she savored the warmth and looked towards the garden below them. She felt him lean on the railing beside her so she closed her eyes and entrusted her weight to him as she nuzzled her cheek on his shoulder.

Really now, he was already taller than her. She could still remember when she had been the taller one between the two of them.

She heard him chuckle.

"Sometimes, you act too much like a cat, _Your Highness_."

It was impressive how she could almost hear the capital letters in the last two words.

It was also quite annoying.

"Is that how you are supposed to talk to your Mistress, Butler?"

"Of course not," there was an offended expression on his face even as wrapped his arms around her to shield her from the evening wind.

"But I'm not just your ordinary butler, am I right?"

_... Will you be mine? If you are no one at the moment then that is fine. I will make you into someone. If you are empty, I will make you so full you will burst..._

_... Why? Why would you do that? I am not something you can own; something you cannot control. You saw what happens to those who try to do so..._

_... That's fine, I will accept the consequence. I am not someone who will leave a person like you by yourself. Let misfortune befall me and you will still be mine. If you cannot do anything but take, then I will simply give you myself for you to hold._

_... Then, what are you willing to give me to be yours? Will it be your body, your heart..._

_Your Soul?..._

_... Everything. My life is now yours just as you are mine..._

She blushed.

A memory of their shared past passing through her mind as words were exchanged and promises were made. It was one of her most cherished memories one that she shared only with the man whose arms she was resting in.

Even now almost 5 years later, that memory was still so clear to her. Colors so sharp and noises too clear, it almost seemed as if she were living those memories even now when she got lost in thought.

She coughed into her fist as she tried to chase away the fond memory and to distract herself from the familiar fluttering in her chest.

"Do you ever think of what you want to do in the future?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"I want to stay by Momo's side."

_An immediate answer!_, she thought with a sweatdrop and a deadpan expression.

"No, I meant a career! A career! Have you ever thought of your career in the future?"

"Why would I do that?"

She would have found the honestly baffled expression on Izuku's face cute if it were not so exasperating. Even so, the seriousness on his mien told her all that she need to know.

_My life is now yours just as you are mine..._

He would follow wherever she may go. He was her butler and she, his mistress. He was not ordinary and he would never be, but he didn't need to be. As long as he was with her, he would always be who he is: her Izuku.

Come Hell, or High Water.

"Fufufu..."

A small laugh escaped her lips as she faced him; a wide smile on her face. Her arms slipped from his coat and she wrapped them around his waist whilst burying her face in his chest. She breathed deeply and she could recognize the scent as the cologne she had gifted him last month. Momo tried to hide the fact that her face was cherry red. It would have worked had she not felt that her ears were hot too.

"What is it?"

Izuku placed his hands upon her hips as he smiled into her hair. He recognized that his mistress was happy. About what? He didn't know, and perhaps, he didn't need to. Seeing her like this, humming happily into his chest with arms coiled tight around his frame, this was enough for him.

"I want to be a hero," she murmured into his chest softy.

"I know."

"Will you follow me?"

"Is that even a question?"

To Hell and back.

To Death itself and to the life beyond.

Silence spread between the two of them but she did not mind and Momo was sure that Izuku too, did not. It was a comfortable silence, one that the two were familiar with. She was relaxed in his arms with her face to his chest and her ear listening to his heartbeat.

She was safe.

She was home.

"You know..."

Hearing another voice speak, Momo jumped away from Izuku as if she was burned by fire and faced their unexpected visitor. Seeing the flash of pale pink, something she recognized as hair, she could only open and close her mouth soundlessly even as she began to color like a boiled lobster.

"... This is the reason why nobody in our school believe you when you say that you guys are not dating."

Izuku also minutely relaxed his guard as he too, had recognized their guest. He had felt her approaching earlier and had tensed even as he continued to converse with his mistress. Though the majority of his attention had been on Momo, a tiny reserved part of his consciousness which was attuned to tracking the movements and intentions of the people around him was entirely alert and focused on the mysterious visitor.

She was dressed in a thigh length, red violet, pleated dress with a petticoat in a lighter shade underneath. A black leather belt was wrapped around her waist and a ribbon the same color as her petticoat was tied around her delicate neck like a choker. Red violet lady gloves adorned her milk-white arms reaching up until mid-bicep and her delicate feet were encased in short-heeled shoes of the same color.

Strawberry blonde, waist length hair that in the right light was almost pink, were tied into pigtails by white ribbons; swaying to the silent evening breeze. Reddish brown eyes that were usually round, narrowed into an expression that aired irritation, were set on an oval face.

Hijiri Daijoin, was there looking at them with a twitching brow.

()

Suzuki Yaoyorozu was a man who made himself into what he was today.

He was born to two parents who had been no more than ordinary office workers. He had aspired to be hero back when he was a child but with the emergence of his quirk, he found out that it was not suited to hero work.

His quirk, Metallurgy, was the ability to synthesize metals out of existing metals through the manipulation of their subatomic particles. It was a powerful ability, many had told him, but sadly, it was all he could do. He could not make metals out of other materials, he could not even manipulate its shape; all he could do is change its make-up.

Not unlike a blacksmith making alloys.

Like any other children who found out that he could not be a hero, he was devastated, but now that he looked back, perhaps it was for the best.

Using his smarts, he used what he could and started his own company.

What started out as a mere metal manufacturing company with a single factory manned by only 120 people divided into three shifts, it was now a worldwide conglomerate with over 400,000 employees in his parent company alone. His ability to make alloys that were thought to be merely fantasy and his genius combined to replicate the process without his quirk rocketed him into being one of the richest people in the world. While this had helped him make his fortune, it had also earned him many enemies.

This was the reason why he and his wife were in the Park Hyatt Presidential Suite in New York waiting for their guest. Incidents have been occurring within their subsidiary companies. Employees were getting robbed in the streets, equipments have been malfunctioning, corporate ideas getting stolen; and while these incidents did not have any one evidence connecting them to a single perpetrator, these incidents of corporate sabotage have been too coordinated.

And the worst of these incidents, had been an attempted assassination on his wife.

She had been enjoying a girl's day-out with their daughter in a local mall when a plain dressed assailant tried to kill them with a knife doused in a poison that was assumed to have been his quirk. It had been unexpected and they were lucky that Momo's butler was there to protect them and apprehend the assassin. It had been a quick take down, but unfortunately, Izuku could not stop the man from killing himself with hidden cyanide pill in a fake tooth.

With such a large dose, he had died quickly before paramedics could administer an antidote. With a poison quirk, one would think he would be immune to poisons himself but it was unfortunate that he wasn't.

It was a good thing that the ever-dependable butler was there and saved his wife and daughter and Suzuki had to thank the heavens that Momo was unable to see what had happened since she was in one of the stores and that it was resolved silently.

Suzuki held his body still to fight off the shivers that threatened to break out of his control.

He loved his family.

He loved his wife.

He loved his daughter.

If anything happened to them he did not know what he would do. Leaning down to kiss the top of his wife's head, as she sat with him on the couch, Suzuki resolved himself to do anything to repay another debt he owed their daughter's personal servant.

Maybe, he should marry him to his daughter? After all, it doesn't seem likely that Momo would complain or fancy another person if what he was reading in his daughter was correct.

_Rather, wouldn't she be overjoyed?_

"What are you mumbling about?"

His wife looked at him with a curious expression.

Hiyori Yaoyorozu, formerly Hiyori Futaba, was a youthful woman who looked very much like their daughter. She had long, straight, black hair as dark as the night sky, sitting above an oval face. Her skin was very much the same milky white color of their daughter. If one were to set them side by side, people would assume that they were sisters with the only difference being the shape of their eyes.

Momo had sharp catlike eyes-which she got from him-while Hiyori was more rounded out.

"I was thinking that maybe I should marry Izuku to Momo," he said bluntly knowing that his wife would get it out of him anyway.

Even after all these years, those puppy eyes seemed to have an even stronger hold on him than in the past.

A snort escaped her lips and her eyes lightened up with humor. Despite the situation that they were facing, he could not help but return it.

"Why, again, haven't we done that already?"

"Because it's a lot more fun to see them dance around the subject?" he replied.

The both of them knew what the teens had with the other. They knew how they both felt for the other. They were very obvious and all those who lived in the same mansion did not know how they were so oblivious.

The manor servants had even started a bet on who was going to confess to who, and when.

"Why are you even thinking of engaging them?" she asked.

It was not that Hiyori was against it; in fact, she would be the first to cheer when, not _if_, _when_, the two of her children get together. Izuku had been a part of their family for a long time now and he was her son in all but blood and name; marrying her daughter would just make it official.

"Izuku has done a lot for us, yes?" though it was phrased as a question, it was more of statement of how undeniable it really was. "Ever since he came into our lives, he has done everything that he could for us."

To serve.

To protect.

Izuku had done so, time and again. He had laid his self on the line for each of his family and Suzuki could not help but admire him.

He could still remember that time his lonely daughter had become happy. The smile on her face at that time, would have been worth any price he would pay. For being there for his daughter after THAT incident, he would forever be in Izuku's debt.

He was the only person he trusted with his most precious treasure's safety. This is why he could rest easy leaving his daughter back in Japan even when there had been an assassination attempt on his family.

Izuku was there.

That is the only thing he needs to hear to feel secure.

_Knock knock_

_Knock_

_Knock_

The sound of rapping on wood snapped him out of introspection. The sound came again and this time, he recognized the sequence of the knocks. He looked to his wife and saw that she too, recognized it.

Hiyori stood from her position on the couch and went to their shared bedroom. As he heard the sound of a lock latch into place, Suzuki stood up and approached the door. The sequence had only been repeated three times so there were no sounds coming from the door.

Looking through the peephole, he saw that it was a man with a black baseball cap in a simple blue hoodie and white pants. A white surgical mask was on his lower face while his eyes were covered by a visor with displaying emotive digital cartoon eyes. They must have noticed his presence behind the door since the visor's eyes changed shape into an upside down 'U' and held up a simple white handkerchief.

It was a square white cloth with vines of golden thread embroidered upon the edges. There, on the lower right corner was a stylized 'Y' in a Celtic knot made of a woven metal that only he himself could produce.

It was a metal that made a subtle bluish-silver glow.

It was a metal he named after another rare metal with the same properties; one he had taken inspiration from a comic series from the pre-quirk era.

It was a metal that was highly sought after all over the world due to its variety of purpose and rarity; his company can only create an extremely limited amount of two tons of the material if they were made without the use of his quirk.

It was the metal that started it all: his fortune, his fame, his life.

Vibranium.

Seeing the handkerchief, Suzuki opened the door and ushered the man in. He had then lead him to the sitting room and offered for the other man to take a seat while he did so himself, but they declined.

Fixing his posture into one he is more comfortable with he studied the man before him with an intense golden gaze. He brushed a stray silver strand back into his slicked back hairstyle as he noted the man's posture.

His feet stood shoulder width apart and there were some tension in his legs with most of his weight on the ball of his feet indicating that he was ready for action. Though that was the case, he remained relaxed enough to indicate that he was in no danger.

There was a slight hunch on his shoulders and his arms were held to his sides looking somewhat lazy and laidback but his sharp eyes saw that his hands never seemed to stray from the pouches strapped to his legs even as he seemingly fidgeted.

All in all, he looked like a man that could not care about what he was doing but his eyes, used to discerning intentions and weaknesses from other competitors or politicians, could see underneath that.

This was a man who was ready; whether to run or to fight.

"Tell me your name and rank."

Suzuki's voice came out sharp and concise.

It was different from the soft, gentle tone he used when he was talking with his wife. If one were to compare Suzuki from before to the Suzuki right now, they would be able to see that when previously he was relaxed and concerned, he was now projecting an intense sense of authority.

The man stiffened at the tone and snapped into a sharp salute.

"Lt. 2nd class, Rito Yamada, reporting Sir!"

Gone was the lazy impression and what replaced it was the image of a capable soldier. The visor's digital eyes changed once more into one that was supposed to indicated seriousness but, in the privacy of Suzuki's mind, it looked pretty ridiculous due to its cartoon-ish appearance.

Suzuki waved a hand indicating that he could relax, but Rito remained straight-postured and kept his hands to his back. This was exactly the picture of a young soldier standing before his superior officer. To Suzuki who had never attended the military, this was an unfamiliar and awkward situation.

To Hiyori who had been peeking through a gap from the door, she found it humorous how awkward her husband was.

"What did you find out?"

Rito gained a grim expression-as grim as a cartoon visor can be-as he seemed to tense out of anger.

"You were right, sir. It was all connected."

That merely confirmed all Suzuki's suspicions. He had done his own investigation but it was not as extensive as it could be. That is why he had enlisted help from others.

During the early years of the Yaoyorozu Zaibatsu, it was under constant attack from other rival companies; whether they be through company espionage, or sabotage. It was during this time that Suzuki established an 'In-House' security.

BlackWatch Private Security.

What had once started as a company security group had then grown into one of the country's biggest Private Military Contractors.

With the rise of quirks and the rapid demilitarization of each country following the rapid inflation of quirked individuals to prevent the use of superpowers for war, most countries rely on local PMC's to defend their country of origin.

Rito was a member of BlackWatch's Intelligence Division; a rising star within the whole company of Military Contractors.

His quirk's name was Search Engine. It was one of the few technopathic abilities in the world. With this ability, he was able to interface with the internet and virtually search for anything he wanted to know; no matter the information needed nor how many defenses were placed in cyberspace, his quirk made it possible to retrieve information even from information terminals not connected to the grid.

For such a powerful ability, it was too bad that he could only use it for an hour. If he were to go over that time limit, his consciousness would be disconnected from his body and there would be a chance that he would become lost in cyberspace.

Something that he never wanted to experience.

He had been assigned with the mission to investigate the recent bout of corporate sabotage in the Yaoyorozu Zaibatsu but with the attempted assassination of the Head's wife and daughter, his mission had been upgraded to find out any and all threats to Suzuki's company and family.

_**"... Who...?"**_

Suzuki's question was a whisper of the wind. It was so soft to the ear but Rito Yamada could feel the overwhelming amount of bloodlust from the man before him.

_**"... Who needs to die...?"**_

Rage festered under his skin, burning in a way fire could not. Suzuki knew anger. He knew of the burning flames of passion and emotion that anger caused. He knew of the irrational actions one can do with anger.

_But this...?_

This feeling burned much like fire but it was cold. Cold and sharp like the edge of a katana. This ice creeping in his veins brought forth a clarity of the mind as his thoughts churned much like a storm.

Plotting.

Planning.

It was at this moment Suzuki knew, that ice burns just as well as fire could with a sharp agony that he fully intends to visit upon his target. He felt his wife, his Hiyori, place a hand upon his shoulder but the gesture could not calm him down-no, that was wrong. He could not calm down since _he was calm_.

This was for Revenge.

This feeling, he knew now, was **WRATH**.

_Gulp_

The sound of swallowing echoed in the now silent room and Rito could not help but feel more nervous. The chilling feeling in the air, he felt, would cut him in half and it was all coming from the man in front who, he could recall, was mild-mannered and kind.

Quickly, he brought out an information terminal from his pocket and displayed to them all the information that he had gathered.

A holographic screen showed the result of his investigation. It showed the evidence he had gathered: plans that were made, events that were arranged to discredit the conglomerate-often at the extent of the company employees.

"Sir, there is something else."

Cold, golden catlike eyes looked up from the floating holographic screens piercing through his visor and into his non-functional eyes.

"What is it?"

Suzuki asked.

"W-while I was searching for information sir, I was able to intercept a call from our perpetrator about another plan that they were planning to execute."

Suzuki hummed even as his mind thought a million miles per hour.

"Where are they planning to strike and who are they going after?"

Now, this, Rito knew was a very sensitive topic. He knew, of course, the Who-What-When-Why-How of the entire thing as he had listened in to the conversation through a nearby computer with a microphone. There was no doubt that he wanted to report all these to his employer but he did not know how Suzuki Yaoyorozu would react to the news that his daughter was going to be kidnapped.

And if he was correct with the context of the entire conversation, he didn't want to see what his Boss would do.

"Well?"

Suzuki asked with a hint of irritation when the younger man did not answer. A sweating expression-_would it be correct to refer to it as an 'emoji'_, Hiyori thought-appeared on Rito's visor as he contemplated how to answer.

"Th-they are going to J-japan, sir" a heavy gulp followed and with a voice so soft that it could have been a whisper continued: "They are going after the Young Miss tonight."

There was a heavy, tense silence in the room before-in what seemed to be great relief-Suzuki and Hiyori sunk into the couch.

"Oh, is that all?"

"S-sir!?"

Rito was shocked with the nonchalance displayed by the two Yaoyorozu. Their daughter was in danger so why do they look so calm!?

Hiyori saw the slightly disappointed and questioning look in their young guest's eyes and decided to clarify the relief they felt.

"There is nothing to worry about Rito-san," she said.

"While normally we would also be worried, our daughter is very capable."

Complete confidence was evident in the proud mother. She knew the amount of hard work Momo had put in to make her quirk viable for hero work.

The hours spent on chemistry textbooks.

The sweat, tears and blood spilt as she trained her self to the ground; all in order to master her different martial arts.

The days spent trying to better herself-to be a better Hero, a better person.

Momo may be her father's joy, but to Hiyori... she was her pride.

Rito could see the fierce emotion radiating from the woman. She was so confident that even he could have been convinced. Rito was a soldier though; confidence was good but certainty was better.

"B-but," he stuttered. "We could at the very least have some your Contractors guard your daughter for you, Ma'am. Wouldn't that be safer for her?"

"Let us just do what we can, 2nd Lt. Yamada,"

Suzuki piped in even as his eyes didn't leave the holographic displays, combing through the data present.

"We have all that we need here to destroy our enemies and we should be concentrating on that."

He locked his eyes with Rito's and saw that although the soldier had agreed, there was still some reluctance in his eyes.

Seeing such worry and concern for a member of his family from someone who was supposed to be a stranger, Suzuki couldn't help but soften up from his intimidating demeanor.

What he didn't know was that the Yaoyorozu family were very popular with their employees. Their workers know them to be good people and down to earth even with their extreme wealth. The Yaoyorozus took such good care of their employees that they were treated as if they were and extended family that they could not help but think of their employers as such too.

"Their is no need to worry about Momo. I can assure you that she is already protected."

Suzuki then smirked at Rito as if sharing a very humorous secret.

"In fact, she may be the most protected out of all of us."

Hiyori brought her hand to her lips as she giggled daintily.

"After all, she has one _Hell _of a butler."

Poor 2nd Lt. Rito Yamada, he could only remained confused.


	3. Chapter 2

HEROES RISE Arc Part 2

_The swing creaked as she kept her eyes to the ground. Children ran around playing games yet none paid her any attention._

_She didn't mind._

_She didn't want anyone to approach her right now._

_She felt a ball roll over to her feet causing her to pause in her swings. Bending down, she picked it up. It was a blue rubber ball with fractal like designs in various shades of violet, blue and red. She stood up with the ball in hand and tried to approach the other children who had been playing before._

_She __**tried**__ to do so..._

_When the other children saw her approach, they too took a step back. Their expressions were a mix of terrified and angry. Seeing their expressions and actions, she stopped and hung her head low._

_She tried to hide how she felt but she could feel her face twist into a bitter expression and tears stung and threatened to fall from her eyes._

_It had always been like this._

_Children her age had always been scared of her. It stung to know that they will never approach her. They were terrified of her..._

_And they were jealous._

_Ever since she could remember, she had always been strong._

_She was stronger than other kids._

_She was faster than other kids._

_She could learn faster than other kids._

_Adults had always praised her, saying that she would grow up to do great things. She was better at doing everything than other kids her age and older. While adults may have loved her for her talents, her peers didn't appreciate that she was better than them._

_It started with petty jealousy and demanding that she should let them be better than her. She refused though, the budding competetive spirit within her refusing to allow others to surpass her without a fight._

_They didn't like it. Then came the bullying._

_Her indoor shoes being hidden from her._

_Her books and notebooks were thrown into the trash._

_Her desk had been vandalized._

_Trash had been thrown at her._

_They called her names._

_They spread rumors._

_At first she told the teachers about it and they did try to help her, but all it did was make the other kids more discreet. That was also when they started to push her around. At first it was a simple bump in the hallways._

_No problem, she could handle that._

_But they began to escalate; trying to trip her in the classroom, food discretely flung to her at lunch in the cafeteria, then, they tried to intimidate her._

_That was when she learned that kids can really be cruel._

_It was after school one day when some older kids grabbed her and brought her to the back of their gym. They tried to threaten and intimidate her; to bring her down to their level_

_She had decided that enough was enough. She didn't want to take it all anymore; all the bullying, all the stealing, all the name calling, it was all enough._

_So she fought back._

_Though she was younger than her would be bullies, she was naturally stronger and faster than them. She was outnumbered five to one but she fought back as best as she could._

_Punching, kicking, she beat them back and stood her ground. Against boys that were larger and older she was doing remarkably well. It was also then that her Quirk awakened._

_It was a feeling like something was building up within her hands. A slap to the chest of one of the bullies who had raised a fist to punch released a small explosion._

_It was a small explosion comparable to a firecracker at most, but it was hot enough to burn through his shirt and skin. The older boy released a cry of pain as he fell on his knees and clutched his burnt chest. A first degree burn at the most, in the shape of a starburst, visible on exposed skin._

_The other bullies, shocked and scared, took a step back. They had not received their quirks yet, another thing that she had beaten them to, and looking at the exploding sparkles in her hands, they doubt that even if they did, they doubt that it would even help._

_That was the first time she had been called to the Principal's office. After the event came to light, her bullies had been severely punished and she was given a slap on the wrist seeing as what had happened was a consequence of her quirk awakening to a stressful situation._

_This did not help her standing with her peers._

_Since the teachers are keeping a closer eye on them after they had learned the extent of their bullying, punishing those who were caught harshly, they instead took to ignoring her altogether._

_This is how it was today. No one wanted to talk to her. No one wanted to go near her. No one wanted to play with her. She was..._

_Lonely._

_It wasn't her fault that she was stronger than them._

_It wasn't her fault that she was faster than them._

_It wasn't her fault that she was smarter than them._

_They didn't need to hurt her._

_Just because her hair was short and she didn't act like the other girls in class and she played like a boy, it didn't mean she wasn't a girl._

_Sitting back down on the swing with the ball still in her hands, her head dipped and hair covered her eyes even as frustrated tears ran down her cheeks._

It wasn't fair_, she thought. It had been a long time since anyone from her peers spoke to her. This empty feeling in her chest, she wanted it to go away._

_Her eyes were scrunched closed as she tried to stop the flow of tears-she didn't want to give her peers the satisfaction of seeing her cry-thus she did not notice the shadow that stopped by her feet._

_She startled and opened her eyes when she felt cloth touch the corner of her eyes What she saw was the brightest green she had ever seen. They shone with the light of concern even as he dabbed an All Might themed handkerchief on her cheeks._

_"Are you alright?"_

_His voice was soft and gentle; like the playful winds of spring. He was young, the same age as her, most probably._

_Surely, she was surprised. This was the first time someone her age tried to talk to her. She tried to reply but months of social isolation led her to become unsure of what to say. She could only open and close her mouth awkwardly._

_The boy took no note of her strange behavior and continued to wipe her cheeks free of tears. In truth, he had seen what happened to the girl in front of him. He had seen how she was isolated, how no one came near her._

_How kids their age, would-be-friends, ignored her existence._

_He had no idea what it was that caused her to be isolated from her peers, but seeing her teary and frustrated expression, he only knew one thing:_

**It is never wrong to help people**

_Her lonely expression, the hunch on her back, somehow he knew that this was not how she was supposed to be. Finished with cleaning her face from tears, he looked into her glimmering red eyes. If no one wanted to help her, then he will._

_If no one wants to see the loneliness she feels, then he himself, will save her from such a sad feeling._

They look like mom's rubies, _he thought. His hand reached out before her face. He smiled as he took in her puzzled expression._

_"Hi! Do you want to be my friend?"_

_His question surprised her._

_Her eyes widened in disbelief._

_For so long, she had been without a friend as they had abandoned her once they saw that she was better than them; when their envy overrode their promises of friendship. She saw his bright eyes that held no deceit, his genuine smile that told her that he was sincere with his offer._

_She held out her hand to his even as she felt her eyes wet with tears once more and her chest aching as if something empty had finally begun to be filled._

_"C-can, I r-really?"_

_She sniffled as the feeling of loss and loneliness began to lift and a fluttery feeling replaced it. It was warm and fuzzy, like a blanket covering and hiding her from the cold._

_It felt like hope._

_"Sure!"_

_He grabbed her unsure and hovering hand with his. She could feel the warmth of that hand reach out to her core filling her body with something she could not yet describe._

_"My name is Izuku Midoriya! What's yours?"_

_Sunny green met rainy red._

_"Katsumi, Bakugou. Nice to meet you, Icchan."_

_Forlorn clouds lifted and a smile brighter than the sun lit up on her face._

()

Loud, rambunctious music played from a JBL Boombox on her desk.

The shrieking of guitars, the heavy beat of the drums, the steady thrums of the bass, it all came together into a heady mixture in her head. The aggressive vocals that characterized the Heavy Metal genre overpowered the sound of her breathing as she curled her biceps with dumbbells in hand.

An incessant knock resounded through her door and shouting came through.

"KATSUMI, TURN DOWN YOUR FUCKING MUSIC!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU OLD HAG!" she replied.

Long, spiky, pale blond hair tied into a high ponytail swayed as she finished her exercise. Dropping the heavy dumbbell to her floor, she grabbed the white towel wrapped around her slim neck and wiped the sweat on her oval face.

Cherry pink lips were set in a permanent scowl and crimson eyes narrowed into a glare as Katsumi Bakugou stomped over to her desk and turned her boombox off.

Silence wrapped around her, the only sound being the fluttering of her curtains on an open window in the evening wind.

Katsumi stood in her room in only her black sports bra and navy blue form fitting yoga pants.

There, beside her desk lamp, was an old photograph encased in a heavy brown picture frame.

In it were two young children, both of whom looked like they were four years of age whose backs were facing a small creek and a forest.

One was Katsumi herself who looked so boyish in the picture, carrying a bug net and cage. Her hair was cut short falling only up to her nape. She was wearing beige shorts and a blue shirt and black sneakers covered her feet. Her face was lightened up with pearly whites evident in a wide grin; her eyes-which were already set on a heavy glare, even then-shined with the innocence and purity of a child.

A child who was happy to have been with her best friend.

Frowning lips twitched into a wistful smile; Katsumi herself unaware that her expression softened as she reminisced of times long past. So lost in her memories was she, that she could not remember when she had picked up the picture frame. Katsumi focused on the person beside her in the picture.

_He had been a shy child back then_, she remembered.

He had wild, curly green hair that was very soft to the touch unlike her own which felt like a hedgehogs quills. Green hair framed a youthful face with chubby cheeks that had four symmetrical freckles and emerald eyes alight with excitement. He was wearing an orange shirt and blue green shorts with red high-top shoes. On his head was a yellow strawhat that blocked the sun's harsh summer glare. One of his arms was wrapped around the younger Katsumi's neck holding his own bug net whilst the other was raised with a cage that held a big, black beetle.

Katsumi traced a finger on his smile even as pain and longing entered her eyes.

"Izuku..." Katsumi felt her heart clench.

_... Kacchan!.._

"He wouldn't want you to keep holding on like that."

Katsumi whirled around surprised at the sudden words. Behind her, leaning on the opened door, was a woman whose looks were very similar to her's.

Dressed in a simple yellow shirt and thigh length black pencil skirt, Mitsuki Bakugou looked as youthful as her daugther. Her similarly shaded spiky hair was cut short reaching just up to her shoulders, framing an attractive face. Even if she was in her late 30's she still looked like a woman in her 20's; Mitsuki was often mistaken for a college student. Slender arms were crossed under a sizable chest as she looked upon her daughter with sharp eyes.

Katsumi sometimes wondered if she would also grow up to be like her mother.

"It has been almost a decade, Katsumi." a soft look was in Mitsuki's eyes as she looked at the tense form of her daughter.

" ..."

Though she didn't say anything, Katsumi knew. She had, after all, counted the days, the years since then.

Since Izuku went missing.

Katsumi could still remember that day clearly. It was on the day they had taken the picture in her hand. Izuku had left his beetle cage in her living room so she had gone to his home and there she saw...

_... Emerald flames burning high..._

_... The scent of smoke and burnt wood..._

_... The screams of people that burned equally under the heat of a viridescent disaster..._

_... Fire spreading as far as the eye could see..._

It was the biggest fire disaster that Musutafu had seen. The flames had consumed a total of seven blocks of the residential area costing millions worth of damages and many more priceless lives.

That was the last time Katsumi had seen both her childhood friend and her Auntie Inko.

It was only later she had learned that her Aunt had died in the fire-burned into an unrecognizable mass of charcoaled flesh-and that her friend was nowhere to be found.

It was only after a thorough investigation after the incident that they had learned that this disaster was all started by an argument between Inko and an unknown man. There were also signs of a struggle and Katsumi came to a realization as she heard this after eavesdropping on her parents and police officers...

**Her friend had not run away.**

**He was taken.**

"I made a promise."

She said after a minute of silence and deep thought. Her eyes had glinted in sharp resolve.

_... I promise I'll find you, Icchan. I'll find you no matter how long it takes..._

Mitsuki raised an eyebrow at the hardness of her daugther's tone. She had always known that she kept her promises; that was how she and Masaru had raised her after all. It had already been ten years and day after day, she never saw her daughter, her Katsumi, take a rest from fulfilling that promise. Ten years with no sign of Izuku, Mitsuki and her husband had given up but their daughter still went on.

She was worried that it had become Katsumi's obsession; their family had no good history when it came to obsessions.

Though Mitsuki wanted her daughter to stop, she didn't know how she could tell Katsumi. She saw the blank look in her daughter's eyes when she thought no one was looking. She noticed the awkward pauses in their conversations as her daughter suddenly looks to the side with her words in her throat only to stop when she sees that there was no one there.

Katsumi had never been the same after that incident.

Her daughter broke, and Mitsuki didn't know how to fix her. She could only hope that by letting her find her own conclusions with her investigations, Katsumi could finally put all of this to a close and let it go.

"I see," Mitsuki simply said, turning away from her daughter. Stopping with a hand on the doorframe, she gave one last look at Katsumi, "I just came to tell you that dinner is ready."

Katsumi watched her mother leave quietly. She felt a slight guilt in her chest as she knew what she was doing to her mother-the worries she caused-but she crushed that part of her ruthlessly.

Katsumi knew her mother had already given up, but it was not so easy for her. Her thoughts were plagued with her missing friend. Every day, every hour, every minute, worry brewed in her chest and though she didn't show it, she was slowly losing hope that her friend was still alive.

At this point, Katsumi was just doing this to finally get some closure and to know Izuku's final fate.

_And the first step is..._

She looked at two pieces of paper that lay innocently on her desk.

One was a copy of her Mock Exam results, and the other was a letter of application.

The recepient?

**UA**

_... "So let's promise!" green eyes looked at her with an excitement that she could not help but return. "We will become heroes! The two of us together, we will be the best hero duo there will ever be!"..._

_... A pinky was raised as chubby cheeks stretched into a wide smile, "Pinky promise?"..._

_... "Pinky promise!" he wrapped his own pinky and they shook it up and down..._

Katsumi placed the picture back on her desk as she headed for the dining room.

"... _Liar_..."

It was a whisper heard by none but the wind. Katsumi left, never noticing the single, shining tear that dripped from her eye as precious childhood memories began to flash through her mind.

_... I promise I'll find you, Icchan. I'll find you and I'll bring you back home... Dead or alive..._

_()_

"You know, when I saw you two heading for the balcony, this isn't exactly what I was expecting to see."

Hijiri Daijoin was not happy if her twitching brow was any indication. She watched with glaring eyes as her friends fidgeted before her.

One of them, anyway.

The other just stood there with a placid smile on his face as if saying:

_'Who, me? I'm an innocent little angel. I did nothing wrong~'_

Hijiri's brow twitched even harder.

Momo tried to say something but a glare from her friend made her squeak and go silent.

"When I heard that you two were attending this event, I thought that maybe we could have fun and catch up seeing as we haven't gotten together in some time. All in all, I didn't come to this party just to scold my best friends for excessive public display of affection."

Hijiri Daijoin has known Momo Yaoyorozu and her attendant Izuku Midoriya for the past three years. She has known the two ever since she had transferred during their last year from her previous elementary school in Shizuoka to Musutafu all up to their years in middle school.

She had known them for 3 years since and they have been the best friends she could ever ask for.

They had been there when her only parent, her mother, died.

They had been there when she decided she wanted to be a model.

They had stood behind her and supported her during her journey to become the art and fashion icon that she was today.

They had been there, standing behind her, as she cut the ribbon to her first boutique.

If Hijiri were given a choice to choose between saving 1,000 people and the two of them, she will be the first to admit that she will always choose her two friends with no hesitation. She would rather sacrifice those 1,000 than to let go of her friends; she was just that selfish, she admits.

But she will also be the first to admit that they could be the most annoying people in the world.

Since the first time Hijiri had met the two, there had always been something between them. When she was younger and more innocent, she could only see two very close friends but, now that they were growing up, there was whole new context to their closeness.

Touches that seemed so innocent then, looked to secretive now.

Adorable hugs that they used to share, looked far too intimate.

Though Hijiri knew that there were likely no such things-

_(Probably...? Really though, when it comes to them, who knew?)_

_-_with her best friends' interactions, hormones made one look at something differently. She was at that age after all, and nobody said that she herself didn't have fantasies.

Still, innocent or not, Momo and Izuku's interactions made her too uncomfortable; like she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to see.

She felt like she was the third wheel to their group.

_Pat_

Izuku stood in front of Hijiri and laid a hand on her head. Gently stroking it like one might to a disgruntled cat, he showed her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Hijiri-chan," Momo moved closer and held her hand with an embarrassed flush. "I know that you don't like seeing us like that."

Hijiri reddened at the close contact. She was a shy girl at heart; even after all these years of having friends that preferred affectionate touches, she really hasn't gotten used to it.

"D-don't think t-that I'll f-forgive you that easily!"

Hijiri relaxed into her friends' touch even as she pouted angrily. She turned her head to hide the fact that her cheeks were burning red, though it was unsuccessful as Momo and Izuku could clearly see the embarrassed flush on their friend's face.

As Izuku enveloped the two girls in his arms-causing Hijiri to blush more-he had to wonder, is this what a tsundere is?

"By the way," Momo sent her a curious glance after the hug ended, yet they never moved far from each other. "What are you doing here, Hijiri-chan?"

With her blush receding, Hijiri faced her friends with her arms under her chest.

"I got an invitation from the Mayor too, after I sold his wife's dress to him."

Fils de Soie, or Silken Threads in English.

It was a boutique that Hijiri opened a year ago when she was twelve. With the help of Momo and her father, Hijiri was able to open her main store in Musutafu. A year later, what was once thought to be a losing company, new to the industry, had become one of the most successful clothing lines in Japan.

Selling clothes for Men and Women, young and old, Prêt-à-Porter or Haute Couture, her store sold clothing and accessories for a wide range of consumers.

Hijiri could attribute her success largely to her thread creation quirk: Silk Strings.

While the name of her quirk may bring about a misconception of what she can really do, Hijiri was not only limited to creating silk threads. Through small spinnerets located under her nails in each finger, Hijiri is able to create any kind of thread once a sample of the thread she wants to create has been ingested. Using her ability, Hijiri was able to weave extremely high quality fabrics that she uses to create the clothes she sells.

Hijiri was given the invitation by the Mayor's wife after she had personally tailored her current evening dress.

"I knew that Momo and her parents would receive an invitation for the ball and that they would most likely attend as they have never missed this event before, so I decided to attend and catch up with you two. The store has finally winded down so everything being much more relaxed helped me make the decision too."

Momo's eyes widened and she buried her friend into her chest with another constricting hug and a small squeel.

Izuku too, was happy. It had been a long time since they had been able to spend time consistently with Hijiri. The opening of the Boutique had been a good thing as it had given her something to do to distract her and make her focus after her mother's death; it helped her move on. With the success of the store, it was hard for them to spend more than an hour together, especially since the store had just gotten off the ground.

"Oh, I'm so happy! We can finally spend more time together! Oh, I know. Why don't we go shopping this weekend? No, how about we go to that new cafe that just opened downtown?"

Momo squeeled as she picked Hijiri up and started to twirl her around like a giant stuff toy.

Considering that Momo was 5"8 tall and Hijiri was rather petite in figure and short standing at 5"4, her doll-like looks notwithstanding, it really did look like a girl with her doll.

Izuku chuckled at the image they generated even as Hijiri tried to pry herself away from Momo's tight arms.

"Oh, I'm happy too," Hijiri's voice was muffled as she tried to pull her face away from Momo's chest. "In fact, I would be happier if you would let me go, Cow Princess!"

The tight grip around her head disappeared and Hijiri immediately pulled herself away and breathed in fresh air.

_I almost died!,_ she thought as black spots disappeared from her vision with the intake of air. Hijiri glared at Momo who had a sheepish expression even as her arms were held up by Izuku who had a deeply amused shine in his otherwise stoic face.

Hijiri glared at Izuku with an angry blush on her face.

"What's so funny, huh, bastard?!"

The amusement only grew even if Izuku's face remained in a stoic smile.

"I don't know what you mean, Daijoin-san?"

_You sadistic bastard!_

Hijiri always knew that Izuku had hidden sadistic tendencies. His amusement for the misfortunate accidents that occur in front of him, though well hidden from other people, was always so obvious to those that spent a long time with him.

Momo, Mr. and Mrs. Yaoyorozu and herself, for example; they are quite aware that Izuku was closet sadist. For them, it was quite obvious as his eyes sparkle with deep hidden wonder.

"Anyway," Hijiri said as she straightened out the wrinkles on her dress. "Let's catch up."

She smiled at her friends, and this time, there was no annoyance from earlier actions, only the anticipation of spending time with the people she values the most.

()

"-and then she said, 'That thing is _Monstrously_ gigantic!'"

Izuku listened to his mistress and Hijiri's giggles with half an ear as his eyes scanned the various guests in venue. Sipping his sparkling cider, he made various assessments of the people around him as he leaned on a wall a few meters behind his friend and partner; just enough distance to quickly reach them in an emergency.

From the corner of his eyes, Izuku could see Momo and Hijiri trading stories. He could only smile as they had a good time of catching up; laughing, giggling, and gesticulating wildly as they did so.

Resuming his silent vigil, Izuku noticed that Momo's gestures had gathered some attention. Immediately, he began to sort through the attention that his mistress had garnered. Izuku divined their intentions through their body language, their facial expressions, their muscle tension, and the looks in their eyes.

Those with benign curiosity, he left alone, but those with particularly strong intentions-whether they were harmful or not-he committed their faces to memory. He took particular care to memorize the faces of those men and women who looked at his mistress with lustful and cunning looks.

Those were the faces of trouble. These were people who were no longer human but had become monstrosities from what he knew of the history of the few faces he recognized.

Spectacularly stubborn.

Willing to use any means necessary to fulfill their desires.

The greed that could swallow human nature and compassion.

Placing his empty flute on a passing waiter's tray, Izuku allowed his immaculately hidden nature to peek through.

No one is allowed to lay a hand on his Mistress.

_No one._

Eyes shadowed by his hair, they seemingly glowed in emerald light. Shadowed windows to the soul shined with bestial, sadistic savagery.

This was a side that only Momo had seen. Not even her parents who had been nothing but kind to him had ever seen this nature of his. His past haunts him, it is one that he cannot escape or forget.

He could remember being sold by someone.

It was someone he hated, he could recognize.

He could remember most of the things that happened after that-spotty though they were-but everything before being sold like cattle, it was blank.

All he could remember was his name: Izuku Midoriya.

It had not left him untouched as Izuku had forgotten everything in his life before his hateful sperm donor sold him for a small amount of change. He had even forgotten what he was like before.

His personality had been wiped clean.

His morals, remade anew.

One can even say that Izuku Midoriya was born on that day among the stink of unwashed and abused children and amoral men and women.

With such a repulsive environment and the harsh teachings his _Owners_ gave him, is it any wonder that he had reverted mostly to animal instincts and jungle savagery?

To Kill or be Killed?

The weight and intent of his gaze settled on disgusting _leeches_ that dare think to touch his mistress-

(_MINE!, his mind whispered. Ethereal chains echoing in the hollow space of his mind as it struggled to hold back and to leash something that was meant to stay in the darkness. Primal growls and sounds that would terrify man, born from the horrors of their mind agreed with him_)

-crushing their wills with the sheer weight of his gaze.

Already he could see the worms paling. Some vomited over their precious fineries and some even soiled themselves; their shame evident over the cries of surprise, shock and disgust of the other guests.

Snatching another flute of drink from a passing waiter, Izuku hid hid his vicious smirk behind the act of drinking what, he now knew, was supposed to be champagne and not the non-alcoholic version. He could feel his lady's questioning gaze even as he continued to avoid looking in her direction.

Something she must have deduced if her suddenly burning glare digging into his temples was anything to go by. He avoided looking into her eyes, knowing that if he were to even glimpse at her appearance, he would fold faster than a stack of wet cards.

It was lucky that he was facing the windows that he was able to see it.

It was luck that allowed him to recognize it; painted matte black it was invisible in the night sky and he was only able to see it when it passed through the window skylight.

He recognized that shape.

He recognized that object.

It was a Tear Gas Grenade.

_Synapses firing._

_Heart rate, rising._

_Muscles tensing._

_Time Froze Still._

Without hesitation, Izuku ran towards Momo and Hijiri. His form wasn't even a blur to the people who saw him move; for those without perception enhancing quirks, his speed was akin to teleportation.

Izuku grabbed Momo and Hijiri by their waste before running to the far end of the hall. He checked the other windows and saw other near-invisible shapes soaring through the air. Arriving at the far end of the hall, Izuku reached into one of the many hidden pockets of his suit-A Butler is always prepared!-and pulled out three miniature rebreathers the size of a match box. He shoved them into his charges' mouths and pressed a button in its side and it expanded into a transparent and durable full-sized gas mask. Once he was sure that they were secure he put on his own mask and rebreather before looking back to the frozen guests.

What he had done, was not even two seconds in the Unaccelerated World. His synapses slowed from within his head as he began to perceive the normal flow of time.

"TEAR GAS!"

Time unfroze as his voice reverberated all around the extravagant hall. Then, two things happened simultaneously: the windows shattered and the panicked screams of the privileged resounded.

Gas canisters landed on marbled floors as they began to expel their contents to fill the spacious room with their malicious mists.

Highly pressurized white smoke flew out from tiny openings as they quickly covered the entirety of the room. Guests and staff alike fell to the floor wheezing, rasping-feeling like their lungs were given out from how they were choking. Eyes were sealed shut as they released tears and mucus ran down from clogged noses.

They never even realized when 50 men all clad in black and grey military fatigues entered as they waved and pointed their guns in various directions. They were shouting in a foreign language while they kicked people off the ground and led them all to one area.

As the white fog began to slowly disperse, Izuku gathered his silent and horrified friends to his arms as he sped up and escaped. His ever-present polite smile was nowhere to be seen and instead his face was an intimidating, emotionless mask.

He had seen enough.

The Sir was right to have him in the party.

Enemies were abound once more targeting his mistress, and this time, they were no longer in the shadows.

()

1st Lt. Yuri Petrov languidly took a drag on his cigarette; the warmth of the nicotine filled smoke filling his lungs staved off the cold of the early fall winds that came in through the broken window. Grey, aged strands of hair ruffled as he passed a black gloved hand through his scalp.

A black portable heater was in front of him chasing away remnants of the cold that the warmth filling his body could not. Thinned lips were hidden from view by steepled hands while his elbows rested on his knees.

He was currently sitting on a wooden stool in an abandoned apartment complex in Musutafu.

He ignored his subordinates as they were busily preparing their gear. Some were doing a pre-operation check on their guns, some were checking on their supplies, and some spent some time communicating with their teammates.

Yuri Petrov was a man of 49 years and he had experienced a lot of things in his life. His youthful silver hair had gone gray with age and his skin exposed the hard lines he had gained from many stressful situations. His eyes had been jaded and his heart had been hardened by all that he had gone through. Yuri's grim facade lent an air of austerity around him which had both earned him the respect and fear of his platoon. Black and gray combat fatigues hid a well forged body that had gone through plenty of battles and similarly colored boots snugly fit his feet.

Yuri's mind was focused on the mission he was given by their employer. He went back to that folder given to him almost a week ago containing the details of their mission.

Yuri was a veteran mercenary of the равновесие company and had done many things for both the company and their employers. He had killed, he had assassinated key figures both bad and good alike, he had even led a defense from a villain incursion while the heroes fought back as best as they could in his country of origin.

But...

This was the first time he had been called to kidnap a High-Profile Target. This was a job more for those who were quicker and quieter on their feet. Yuri himself was more of a hammer; he was the person to call if you wanted something gone as explosively as possible.

... And not just any High-Profile Target, it was the heiress of the Yaoyorozu herself.

_... "They don't care about her condition, all they ask for is to bring her back alive." his superior informed him in an apathetic tone. The man who was even older than Yuri was staring at him with an uncaring eye as he flipped through the folder given to him._

_"The client doesn't care what you do to get her. All they require are three things: the heiress of the Yaoyorozu alive, to leave a message that we have their daughter and for you to do it as quietly as you can. After that, maim her, rape her, it's all up to you." His superior waved his hand in a dismissive gesture as he went back to the papers on his desk..._

There was something suspicious about this mission, Yuri could feel it. There was something foul smelling in the air and he knew that he could trust his instincts to warn him about it; he had left more doomed battles alive this way than those unlucky others.

He trusted his gut above all else and it was telling him of a danger he could not see.

"Sir."

Brought out of his rumination, Yuri turned towards his SIC.

Standing to his left was a young man in his 30's. Dressed in the same military fatigues and combat boots, he was a man with a white face and reddish brown, cropped hair. What was unusual about him was that behind his square rimmed glasses, his eyes were pure white with a black sclera.

His disturbing, ever-present smirk and the swaying leathery black tail with a long, bony tip behind him lent him the image of a devil.

His name is Alek Smirnov.

"Everything is ready; all inventories have been accounted for."

"Good," Yuri replied, his voice rough and deep.

As he stood up, revealing his great height of 7"2, one of his subordinates approached him with an object in hand.

The man with non-descript features handed his superior what seemed to be a large device shaped into a backpack. It was entirely metallic covered in segmented lines that separated its surface into different panels. There were two shallow dips on its surface, a larger one on the top and a smaller one near the bottom. Its straps were made with a tough, kevlar-like material that was shaped like a harness; it was meant to securely wrap around his torso.

Yuri took his device without a word and worn it over his back and strapped it to his chest.

"Have the men ready in five," He moved towards the exit without looking back. "I want this done before tonight. The faster we get this done, the faster we can escape this country with the hostage in tow without the heroes responding in time."

Hearing Yuri's words, Alek smirked a bit wider as his inhuman eyes narrowed. His appearance became even more devilish in the plain faced subordinates mind.

"Sir, yes sir!"

They snapped into a sharp salute and immediately went to complete their tasks.

It didn't take even 3 minutes before all the men were accounted for and they entered their assigned vehicles. They were large, gray vans capable of seating 10-12 people. Yuri and his platoon usually employed black transportation in missions but it would be very suspicious for multiple black vans or standard military HMMWV's were to head to the same location at night or be seen by civilians.

Once they had loaded into the vans, they immediately drove off into the night, splitting into different groups as they took different routes to their destination.

Yuri wanted this operation to be smooth.

He wanted this fast.

He wanted this easy.

Yuri Petrov was more than aware that plans never survive first contact but he still hoped that this would go as best as it could be. His ride was the first to arrive to their destination while his subordinates arrived at different, random times. This was something he decided to do to minimize the risk of suspicion.

Yuri studied the large party hall off the distance. He looked for the best entrances and escape routes he could use and compared them to the blueprint of the venue he had acquired.

Yuri already had a plan in place, but he kept on running them over and over in his mind.

It looked easy enough.

It looked like there will be no complications with this mission. That was what the reality of the situation told him, but...

Once more, his stomach and chest burned with unease, and this time, he couldn't keep the feeling in his chest away from his face.

"1st Lt. Petrov?"

Alek, who had been beside him the entire time, noticed the expression on his superior's face. He had never seen Yuri with anything but an austere facade; seeing him with a furrowed brow was as rare as the blue moon, but now that Yuri had a face that could only be called as anxious... Alek couldn't help but feel worried as well.

"Alek," Yuri didn't look at his SIC as he was still focused on the venue. "What do you think about this mission?"

"I believe that this would be a simple smash-and-grab operation, sir."

Alek didn't know what was plaguing Yuri's mind but he wanted to ease the worry he was feeling. Alek had been under Yuri's leadership for almost a decade and had been his SIC for the past 5 years.

To Alek who had never known companionship due to his disconcerting appearance, Yuri had become his mentor, role model, and father-figure.

"Is there something wrong?"

Yuri gave a noncommital hum at the question.

"Nothing, nothing," he said. Turning away from the sight of their target, he walked towards to his subordinates who had been preparing a temporary base of communications.

"It's just my gut burning."

It was a whisper. Softer than rustling cloth, it should have been covered by the noisy leaves of the woodland they were hiding in.

As though it was by divine intervention, the wind carried that whisper into Alek's ears.

_The cold hand of Death brushed its finger unto his spine_

Alek was well-aware of what those words meant. Once, he had heard Yuri say that on a mission involving a villain raid with Russia's top heroes and had suggested that they refrain from storming what they had assumed to be the villains' hideout. They had been hunting them for weeks and they thought that the villains had been cornered when they retreated to an old abandoned textile factory with what appeared to have no defenses or defendable positions. A newly debuting hero who had joined the operation had gotten cocky and had rushed off without consideration with their companions.

Alek could still remember as he and the other tried to pull him back but the cocky little shit just laughed at them.

He could still remember as the rookie's hand wrapped around the doorknob.

He could still see, with vivid clarity, as the rookie's expression changed from smug, to bewildered, to outright terrified.

Alek could still remember as he tried to reach the kid when suddenly the door blew up-throwing those who had pursued him away with the resulting shockwave.

The rookie, Crimson Commando, had not survived.

More and more examples where Yuri had noticed something vital others had dismissed or had ignored that led towards their death or survival began to be more evident to him following the earlier incident.

Sometimes, during their platoon's free time, it had been jokingly speculated that the 1st Lt.'s instincts had been his quirk, but no, Alek knew it wasn't even if his subordinates certainly thougtht so.

He had seen Yuri's quirk in action after all.

No, his leader's animalistic instincts were just that sharp.

And now, just as they were supposed to complete their mission, Yuri had whispered those words once more.

Alek wanted to question Yuri what his instincts were telling him. He contemplated abandoning the mission as surely, it was better to have their men survive, as usually Yuri only said those words in truly dangerous situations but no, his commander had not given the command to retreat and abandon their task. The Liuetenant must have wanted to continue the mission.

Alek would follow Yuri's lead if that was the case.

Heading back to the completed communications tent, Alek mentally went over his inventory and condition. It would not do if he were caught with his pants down.

()

She watched as the soldiers prepared to move out.

She watched as they put on their masks and headgear.

She watched as they began to navigate the woodlands and surrounded the venue.

She watched and listened as they communicated with one another.

She watched as they synchronized with the others.

She watched as they pulled out canisters from their packs.

She watched as they simultaneously threw their loads.

She watched as they stormed the party hall.

She watched as they dragged the privileged by their hairs, arms or legs.

_She watched them all right beside the mercenaries. They never even noticed her presence._

She watched with an intense, teary gaze as a young man in a stylish Three-piece charcoal colored suit run off with two teenaged girls in his arms.

She watched as he threw their masks away as they escaped through the gardens unnoticed.

She watched as the young man abruptly turned-likely sensing her gaze-and stared at her exact position. She knew that he would see nothing.

... Not in his current state.

She watched as he stared at her for a few more seconds, sending heart into a crescendo, before taking his two charges in his arms once more and fleeing.

She watched his rapidly disappearing back as she touched her flat stomach right below her navel; feeling the hot throbbing sensation of a faint scar.

She watched, and watched even as he disappeared from her sight; giving a wide smile that fully displayed her pearlescent teeth.

If one were to see her, they would have been frozen-horrified at the sheer intensity at her display of emotion.

Her wide smile, her blushing cheeks and panting breath, she was the very picture of Obsession.

"I finally found you... _My Dragon_... "


	4. Chapter 3

Giran knew he was a greedy man. His greed was so great that even with the wealth he already had, he was still unsatisfied.

It was this greed that led him to the path of crime.

He had once started as any other ordinary, aspiring business man. His wits and greed, drove him to be the best at his field as he could be which led to his success. Giran was known as a rising star in the business world in his youth as he had acquired and successfully led several chains, but...

_It wasn't enough_.

His greed demanded more.

He demanded more.

More gold, more wealth, more jewels, more diamonds, more reds, more blues, more greens, more yellows, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more!

He felt like he was going insane!

His greed knew no bounds. The more he obtained to feed his greed, the more his greed demanded leading to a spiral that he could not escape from.

He tried to acquire more businesses. He tried to lead them better; to get more profits...

_It wasn't enough_.

Giran wasn't satisfied with how much he began to make with his business chains. He felt as if they were not coming in fast enough. He felt as if those he owned were not enough. It was this feeling that led him to the Criminal Underbelly of Society.

It were simple requests at first like the acquisition of certain materials that his clients could not get without raising a lot of questions. Then came the demand for information on certain people, places, events; anything and everything that he could get his hands on. After that were requests for the acquisition of rarer materials; some of them legal, some of them very illegal.

Giran couldn't believe his eyes with the amount of money that kept coming in.

_Crime doesn't pay, my ass_, he once thought.

With the amount of money that came in both from his legal businesses and underworld contracts he felt that for once, maybe his greed could be satisfied. It was with this thought that he completed his contracts and earned his way to infamy.

As his illegal business empire grew, rumours of him began to spread. They said that if one had enough money, Giran was the man who could get you anything.

He loved those rumours. It gave him a big reputation among the other denizens of the shadows of society and it brought him more clientele to do business with. He reveled in those rumours as they granted him more wealth.

... It was also these rumours that led these _monsters_ to him.

_... Dust floated slowly-gently-on to the ground as wide, crazed eyes stared into his own pair..._

_... "Party with me, or this is what will happen to your Avatar."..._

"Ne~, what's the update on our side-quest?"

Pale blue, shoulder length hair shifted as he leaned back on the couch.

Giran lightly tugged at his white collar as a sweat slightly built up on his skin.

"It, is going well,"

He mentally cursed at the hitch in his voice when he spoke. He could already feel the amused smirk directed at him and that did not fill him with anything other than trepidation.

"The acquisition of the sample has been done. As we speak, it is being delivered to the extraction point to move it to one of our labs."

Giran's face was carefully schooled into a mask of an arrogant smirk and half-lidded eyes. He did his best to hide the fear that was in his heart. Projecting a confident front, he looked into the eyes of his recent employer trying-and most likely failing, if the increased amusement is any evidence-to show that he was not afraid as he gave his response.

A childish giggle echoed within the walls of the location he was brought to.

"Oh~! That's good, that's good! We only have to finish the next part of the chain side quest to finish!"

Maddened eyes lit up with childish joy as his legs folded beneath him. Jumping up and down with a rocking motion, the crazed man-child clapped his hands as he laughed wildly.

For the first time that night, Giran felt his tense shoulders relax knowing that his employer was in a good enough mood if the level of immaturity he was displaying was anything to go by.

Lightly fiddling with the light brown scarf wrapped around his neck, he began to observe the room he was sent into.

He was in his office earlier located in downtown Hosu when a misty, black portal opened in front of him. Knowing what it was and what it meant, he entered immediately and was sent to this room in front of his employer.

It looked like a private room in a bar he had visited to meet with a client once. It was spacious but not overly big with walls covered in reddish brown bricks giving it a retro atmosphere. There were no doors that he could see meaning there would be no exit he could use. The floor were shiny, waxed, wood panels smoothly placed against the other that there was no space in between each plank. An air-conditioner was placed at the top of the wall to his right; it was the only wall that was not covered in bricks but instead was made of cement and painted in dark green. On the ceiling was a modest chandelier with electric light bulbs that provided sufficient illumination. Two black leather couches were placed facing each other at the center with a small coffee table in between them.

That is where he was currently seated.

"Can you tell me the play-by-play?"

Giran acquiesced and began to apprise his employer of his mercenaries' report. While doing this, he took the time to observe his employer.

Shigaraki Tomura was a tall, lanky man. His body was thin, belying his strength and speed. Clad in only a black shirt and pants, he was not someone one would think as menacing. Untamed, medium length pale blue hair covered most of his face; those that were not hidden by the severed hand he insists to put on his face, anyway. Uncovered hands showed wrinkled and dry skin.

Shigaraki looked to be a young man in his late teens based on the details that Giran could see. If his employer were to walk around the city in disguise he was sure that nobody would be able to recognize the dangerous villain in their midst.

... That is, if nobody would be able to see his eyes.

If there was one thing that Giran could recognize about this man-child currently spellbound by the overly-detailed report submitted by the mercenaries he had hired, it was that Shigaraki is absolutely insane.

There was something inherently wrong with Shigaraki Tomura.

Insanity was a common occurrence with those whose quirks required special needs. If those needs were not met, it usually led to the degradation of the mind or mental pollution. Most cases like these, however, were luckily easy enough to identify and if treated early can reduce the effects of the mental pollution.

This was not the case for Shigaraki Tomura.

Giran could tell that Shigaraki's insanity was different. The madness swimming in his gaze, it was something that did not belong to a human being. There was something inherently wrong with it.

It was something twisted.

Something that differed from what could be perceived as the natural order.

Something... _distorted._

The multiple severed hands that he knew Shigaraki had personally hunted down and _liberated_ from their previous owners that laid themselves on his body only served to prove this point.

"Then," it was an abrupt change in tone. The laughing man-child was gone and in his place was the murderous psychopath that had dragged Giran into his organisation with a noose tied around his neck.

"What about the other quest I gave you?"

It was a whiplash of emotions and moods for any other person, but for Giran who had been exposed to this for an extended period of time, he was able to ignore it; though with great difficulty. There was a neutral-if not jovial-air before but now, killing intent suffused the atmosphere of the room.

Images of various ways he could be disintegrated ran through his mind, filling Giran with fear. Sweat broke out on his skin, and shivers wracked his body. Once more, he could only wonder how could he get out of this without dying.

_But that would be pointless,_ he thought, _how do you predict the actions of the insane?_

"Everything is going according to plan. Pressure has been steadily building and we should be ready for the next phase."

Really, he felt that he should be given an award for this. To be able to maintain his composure-fake as it is-in this type of charged atmosphere, surely not everyone can do so.

Five months ago, he had been given a mission by the man in front of him:

_Steal the secrets of Vibranium._

It was an insane mission with a high chance of failure, Giran knew. For sure, he didn't want to do it but when one is confronted with the threat of a painful death, he had no choice but to do as he was commanded to do.

Vibranium was a valuable resource that was known as the rarest substance in the world. It was a synthetic material developed by the Yaoyorozu patriarch in the hopes of creating one of the most versatile fictional metals in history.

Its rarity was such that even with extensive effort and research, its production could only be available to the world in two tons per month.

Vibranium, like its fictional counterpart, was capable of absorbing ambient sound and oscillations and even kinetic energy; making it one of the best metals that could store, direct and conduct energy. This unique property of the metal also had the capability of making it stronger and announced its existence as the strongest metal on Earth. The unique radiation Vibranium emits is also a highly researched subject with its results producing great advancements to medicine, agriculture and many more branches of science.

A single gram of Vibranium is worth $11,000+ in the world market making it one of the most expensive metals in the world with a chance of getting more expensive depending on its grade and purity.

With its inherent value, the countries that could afford the metal guarded their supply like a dragon would guard its hoard. The limited amounts of the material had produced many research projects into creating something that could rival and, perhaps, replace the versatile metal.

Many have tried and many have failed.

The only one that could claim partial success was the Center of Natural Sciences based in Zurich, Switzerland and their creation: Tyrium _(They wanted to call it Adamantium but they thought that it was too on the nose when the Yaoyorozu patriarch named his creation after the original fictional material. They decided to name it after the Norse God of Justice, Tyr, instead.)_.

Even then, Tyrium could only be truly comparable to one aspect of Vibranium: its sheer durability.

Many wanted to be the next Suzuki Yaoyorozu, who had cemented his name into history, by replicating and then surpassing the most revolutionary substance in the past millenium and many more will surely fall short.

Nobody knows how Vibranium was made; not even the workers who work in Yaoyorozu's factories knew how make them. The secret lies solely in the head of the Yaoyorozu patriarch.

... And Shigaraki wants him to get that secret. The man-child had also ordered him to steal a sample of the miracle metal.

See?

**Crazy.**

It was with much difficulty but Giran had been able to steal a sample of Vibranium from China through a lot of bribes, blackmail and plain old luck.

10 grams.

That was the total amount of Vibranium that he was able to acquire even with the extensive measures that he had used. Though small in quantity with just this amount, it was enough and phase one was done.

Phase two...

Giran grimaced at the amount of effort he had to place to even get a chance to take a step forward towards completing his objective.

HeavyArms Industries, Inc. was one of the front companies created by his employers-one that he was now the head of. It was known as a reputable and reliable parts manufacturer for Enhanced Ability Devices also known as EADs; the people who bought their products not knowing that it was a front to cover the illegal actions and to provide the fundings for their underground organization: The League of Villains.

Once more, Giran could only grimace at the cheesy name. Though it was just a throw-away name, couldn't they have chosen something better, he thought.

For three months, he led a shadow war with one of the biggest companies in the world and engaged in corporate sabotage. He did all he could to securely cover his tracks but even then, he was almost caught a couple dozen times.

And now, he just needed to secure one more piece and those three months of effort would be worth it.

A glint shined in his eyes-one that Shigaraki mirrored; malice and satifaction heavy in his expression.

"As we speak, I have sent the people who can get us what we need to fulfill the mission you gave me," Giran leaned into his own couch as he crossed his legs and laid an arm at the back of his seat.

"The key to our objective is at hand! Soon, _Momo Yaoyorozu will be ours..._ "

"Hoh~?"

Shigaraki expressed an impressed voice as Giran grinned with full confidence.

"You seem so sure... Giran~"

"Of course I am."

Shigaraki got up from his seat as Giran immediately replied. A familiar misty, black portal spiralled into existence at the wall to their left. Giran merely watched as Shigaraki approached the void between spaces.

He stopped.

"By the way,"

Giran was familiar with the way Shigaraki spoke. He was a child who grew into a man but never had the chance to let his mind grow too. He spoke with a flighty tone befitting a child and yet carefully hid a great cruelty that he could whimsically unleash to the unwary.

He had never heard him speak so seriously.

Standing in front of a misty void, one that looked like it had cut a hole through existence, he stood with a slouch as though he were just a bored teen, but the way his profile stood out against the void made him all the more menacing.

"You do know that if this fails, our plans will be pushed back by quite the margin?"

Giran nodded unable to find his voice to reply.

"If that happens... I'll erase you from existence."

Shigaraki turned away from his subordinate and passed through the space between worlds and vanished into their dark embrace.

Giran sat frozen in seat as he contemplated the words that he heard.

Shigaraki had not left him a promise.

He had left a statement.

There were no if's or but's whether he would go through his words. For the first time in so long... as he sat on his seat, ignoring the portal that awaited his departure, Giran prayed for his continuous good health and for the success of his mercenaries' mission.

()

_"-And more news regarding the kidnapping of the various distinguished guests of the Musutafu Annual Charity Ball will be reported by our on-site correspondent..."_

Hijiri listened listlessly as she sat on a couch in front of the television. Her eyes were blank as she watched the reporter buzz around the garden villa they had just been in together with the police who were investigating.

After the surprising attack by an unknown group of people, Izuku had taken her and Momo towards a hidden residence bought under his name completely equipped for both safety and comfort. Momo had asked why they were not going back to the Yaoyorozu mansion and her attendant had replied, _It was not safe_, he said.

Izuku had gone as far as to contact the rest of the staff in the mansion and told them to evacuate using the routes he had prepared. Though most of the attention would surely be on them, he wanted to keep the staff safe.

Hijiri had asked why he had thought that in a somewhat panicked tone and Izuku had explained to them his reasons.

Since the assailants had attacked the party, there may be a chance that they recognize the people who had attended the event; they may have the list of attendees. Though Izuku did not know what their objective was, if they were so certain of their success as to initiate such a brazen attack, they would have investigated each person thoroughly.

Though it was merely a conjecture-a cautious guess at most-that Izuku had made, unknown to him, he had not been wrong. The mercenary unit of the Russian PMC Equilibrium had not been careless. They had investigated who would be surrounding their target to efficiently finish the mission.

Their plan to kidnap Momo would have been successful had they not forgotten to investigate who would be accompanying her. Their investigation into Izuku had been lacking at best and arrogant at the worst. As soon as they saw that he was merely her personal servant and his relative age, they had skipped over him entirely after skimming through the surface of his records-records that were created by the Yaoyorozu.

This was their mistake.

Since they had not researched his information thoroughly, they wouldn't have known that aside from being her personal servant, Izuku was also the Yaoyorozu daughter's trusted Guardian.

He had then continued that when they notice that she and Momo are not with the other guests they had kidnapped, they will know that they had escaped and one of the places they would surely go to would be the Yaoyorozu mansion.

Based on the speed of their attack, he thought that they would also be thorough in making sure that no one would be able to escape them.

Momo had agreed with Izuku seeing that even with all the security measures that the mansion had installed, they were not meant to last under a concentrated assault of what seemed to be a military unit.

Hijiri sighed as she leaned back into the comfortable leather couch of the rather luxurious residence that Izuku called a hideout.

When Hijiri had heard that Izuku was taking her and her friend to a safe house that he had prepared for situations such as these, she had expected an abandoned warehouse or a plain house. She did not expect a two-story house furnished with exquisite decor in the upper district of Musutafu.

_This, is not what I was expecting_, she thought.

_... "Nothing less will be good enough for milady." The serious glint in his eyes told them that he believed what he had said as the truth. The sun rose from the east, humans need to breathe, and his mistress deserves only the best!..._

Hijiri groaned into her hands as she tried to process the events of the night.

She saw movement from the corner of her eye and lifted her head back up.

_Clink_

The sound of porcelain laid down upon the coffee table reached her ears just as the pleasant aroma of warm tea reached her nose.

Hijiri breathed in the aroma letting it calm her thoughts. She saw Momo sit beside her and offer a small apologetic smile; a reassuring one on her own lips.

"How are you?"

Momo asked as she took a sip of her own Chamomile tea.

"I'm fine," she replied.

No, she was not. Momo could tell that she was lying if the slightly accusing eyes directed at her were anything to go by.

Hijiri's thoughts were a mess and her heart had not calmed down yet at the least. Her bubbling panic may have gone down now that they were not in danger, but it hadn't disappeared.

They were in danger.

They had almost been kidnapped.

Before she had gained her fame and fortune, before she had befriended the master and servant duo, Hijiri had been an ordinary girl you could see walking down the streets. Unlike Momo, she had not been trained to expect these situations and what to do during these times.

She only ever expected to experience danger like this through the television showing Villain attacks and such.

_Poke_

"Eep!"

A small squeel escaped her lips as she felt a finger poke her ribs. Scooting away from her touchy friend, Hijiri glared at Momo.

Still in a position with a finger extended, Momo returned Hijiri's glare before returning to her tea.

"Do not lie to me," she said. "You know I dislike liars."

Hijiri lost her glare and apologized at the small reminder. Seeing Hijiri slightly wilt, Momo, too, lost her glare as her features softened into an apologetic mien.

"I'm sorry if I was being a bit harsh, Hijiri-chan. I'm just worried about you."

Any last bits of resistance that was in her heart disappeared as Hijiri looked at Momo's worried face.

Momo had always been the most maternal between the two of them. Her friend's strong maternal instincts had lead her to being the worrywart and the most mature one among their group rivaled only in maturity by Izuku.

"You don't need to apologize, Momo-chan."

Hijiri shook her head as she knew that her friend would continue to apologize if she had said nothing.

"I guess, it's just that, ... this would be a first for me."

"A first?"

Momo tilted her head at the odd choice of words Hijiri used.

"Mm," Hijiri nodded. "We've been through a lot of misadventures, the three of us. But, I think that this would be the first time we got involved in a hostage and kidnapping attempt as the victims, right?"

That would be true.

She and Momo could still remember the various incidents that their odd luck led them to. They could remember their bizzare adventures ranging from randomly helping a cat stuck in a tree to somehow rapidly escalating to assisting a child escape her captors/tormentors and other adventures.

"Somehow, I can now understand how it must have felt like for those people we occasionally helped."

Curling into herself on the couch, Hijiri hid her face in her arms. She could feel her heart hammer into her chest as if it was trying to escape. The emotions she felt as they ran away in Izuku's arms coursed through her veins once more and a shiver ran through her spine.

"The terror of not knowing what was going to happen, the knowledge that you were about to see something bad, the shock at knowing that out of millions, this event was happening to you, the confusion and questions on why it had to be yourself..."

Momo listened to her words with an understanding expression; her tea left forgotten and cold on the surface of the coffee table for quite some time. She showed no disdain at the weakness displayed before her nor did she give her friend pity knowing that the headstrong Hijiri would not appreciate it.

It was something Hijiri appreciated if the slight smile she had flashed Momo be any evidence.

"Though-thankfully-we were not put in danger due to Izuku's swift response, those emotions that I felt were certainly real."

She knew that she was rambling at this point and Hijiri could only be thankful of her friend's patience.

Airing out her thought, her feelings like this, she felt as if a weight that had settled unnoticed on her shoulders had gotten lighter and that the jumbled mess of emotions she currently was going through was finally calming down.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that, I think I can understand what those people are going through right now-even if my understanding is incomparable to the terror and uncertainty that they are still going through."

Hijiri grimaced at the thought of other people experiencing those same emotions for an even longer period.

Momo nodded in understanding as she was not unfamiliar with the particular sentiment. She herself had been the victim of numerous kidnappings.

_In fact,_ she thought with a slight smile on her face, _wasn't that how we first met?_

_... The sound of screeching wheels..._

_... Shards of glass flying frozen in the air..._

_... Black, as dark as the night sky and as bright as the stars that adorn it, matched still and brilliant emeralds..._

Hijiri saw the small smile and the distracted stare of her friend and figured that she must be remembering something again; something that must be related to her precious attendant. Hijiri could only fondly roll her eyes at this and was briefly distracted from the feelings that were churning in her chest.

Momo shook her head to chase away her thoughts and looked back at Hijiri who had an amused smile on her face.

While she was glad that her friend was no longer depressed, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the face of that smile as she could tell that there was something about it that made her flustered-she just didn't know what.

"I can understand what you mean, Hijiri-chan. You can even say that I've been around the block!"

Hijiri gave a small laugh at Momo's exaggerated wink. Her friend's small joke, doing a great deal in softening the lingering tension in the living room.

Momo grasped her friend's hands and cupped them in her own in a comforting gesture. Her eyes softened and shone with care for a friend in distress.

"I know how it feels too, Hijiri-chan. The feelings that you feel, I have felt them too-for too many times in my opinion.

"I can understand your distress and I can sympathize with the helplessness that you are feeling. I've been where you are now."

Hijiri turned her head aside, unwilling to show Momo the true depths of her emotions even as she spoke the truth.

Her friend paid her action no mind and continued to comfort her.

"But there is no need to worry you know?

"Distress will fade away, and resolve will replace it. The helplessness you feel will then be replaced with the desire to get stronger; to never feel such ever again."

Her eyes burned with flames that Hijiri had often seen in her friend but were usually hidden beneath her pleasant demeanor. These were flames that never seemed to dim even in the face of overwhelming odds and unexpected situations.

Hijiri sometimes wondered where these flames came from, but it was not something that she would ask as she already knew what they were.

Desire.

Determination.

Ambition.

It was a hope to be stronger, to be better.

It was a dream for the her of tomorrow to surpass the one of today.

As Momo had said, she had been dipped into the pool of despair and drowned in helplessness, but she was pulled out of that pit. She was given something that made her desire a future where she could stand strong.

Even if that future was not something that she could easily see nor easily reach, she dreamt of that future where she could stand side by side with the one who had pulled her out of her despair and loneliness.

"You also don't need to worry about the other guest who were taken."

Hijiri scrunched her brows in confusion.

_Why did she need to say that?_, she thought. She knew that Momo knew that she was worried about the other people in the gala, but why did she need to reassure her of their safety? She already knew that the police and heroes were on the case and that this should be resolved soon.

Hijiri opened her mouth to question why Momo needed to mention the other guests when a thought came to her. Immediately, she began to look for the other person who was supposed to be there with them.

She tried to listen for a sound-a hint-that they were there, but all she could hear was her own breathing and that of Momo's.

_(Not that she would be able to hear him anyway had he decided that he wanted no one to be aware of him.)_

Hijiri turned to her companion and saw that she had already changed their cold tea for a warmer one.

"Momo-chan..."

"Yes?"

There was an amused lilt to Momo's words that was not there earlier. She was very aware of what was going through her friend's thoughts.

"Where is Izuku-kun?"

Hijiri watched as her friend poured her and herself tea.

She watched as Momo picked up her cup and saucer.

She watched as Momo took a sip of hot tea and graced her with a stare that seemed to smile.

"Who knows?"

()

_Light twisted and churned in a hypnotic dance; his eyes trained towards their direction but could not look away even if he wanted to; as if he were held still by invisible hands._

_He couldn't move._

_His body was frozen as if time stood still and he could only continue to watch as dancing lights grew brighter and bigger._

_He could see the lights grow bigger, but then he realized he was the one getting closer. His body was dragged towards those mysterious lights and fear crept into his heart._

_He did not know how or why he was here._

_All he could remember were flashes of a _disgusting _memory._

... Chains...

... Cages...

... The smell of waste and human excrement...

... The heat of multiple bodies and the slick of sweat...

... The face of greed, lust and excessive, fragile pride...

_It was all he could remember._

_As he drew closer, he could hear it; a song of echoes and dreams. He heard the song of eternity echo in the __**Not-Real Space**__ giving him glimpses of the future and the past. He could hear the thousand voices of cheering madness and whispers of joy as he finally understood what the lights in front of him were._

_They were no simple lights._

_His young eyes, pure and innocent-yet tainted with the knowledge of human cruelty and the truth of their nature-widened at the marvel he witnessed._

_They burned with a power indescribable. Words would do their strength no justice as they sang the song of victory. Within their torrid cores, light ignited in a display too alien to describe as his mind tried to find a worthy description from his meager vocabulary._

_Five stars, so enormous they could engulf whole galaxies, situated on top of equally gigantic pillars with ornate scrollwork and carvings of creatures horrifyingly beautiful and beautifully horrifying, greeted him with delirious cheers as their brilliant displays of power shook the space-which-should-not-exist._

_Emotions of deep joy and love bombarded him as the stars felt his attention fall on them. Their master had finally noticed them, their loyalty and patience had been rewarded with his presence, this he could understand._

_He knew them, but did not._

_He recognized them, but they were strangers._

_He loved them, but did he really?_

What are you_, he asked them._

_Then they sang in a chorus that drove men mad with the knowledge of truths unknown and unheard. They sang to him of their nature and destiny. They serenaded him with their affection and devotion as they told him of their nature. They chanted to him of their purpose and begged of him their desire._

_It was a song that reveled in the primal instincts of man when everything in creation was young and he understood its message._

_His vision still locked towards the bright light of the stars, even as their light burned his eyes to a white haze. He listened to the song as he too, tried to convey his own message through a tune; he failed as he forgot he could not move nor command his body._

_They were potential._

_They were possibilities._

_They were his __**Charges**__._

_Whether he used them or not, they were satisfied merely by being by his side. He understood, should the need come, they would protect him. They would grant him his every wishes and dreams._

_They would bend reality if needed for his every whim._

_He knew._

_He understood._

_He accepted their alien nature and embraced them as his own. After all, they were his own as they resided in his body._

_They were his quirk._

_His acknowledgement granted them with uncontainable joy as their emotions flooded the infinite cosmos of the space which he now knew as his soul. They bellowed wordless, maddening sounds of pure emotion and he reveled in them._

_Control was once more his, and he danced to the alien tunes that snagged his soul and shook him to his very core. And then..._

_... Izuku Midoriya woke up._

()

The world was wrapped in blessed silence and darkness. The only sound was of the waves and the only light were from the stars. The noises of the city could not reach them as they were quite far from its center.

His steps were silent; a ghost in the wind. Even as he stepped over scattered litter-common as they were on the docks-not a crinkle was heard and not a mite of dust disturbed.

Izuku walked the shadows and night as if he were its lord. His presence was non-existent on this plane of creation.

_... Five glorious suns-his charges-stood before him. Their songs of joy bombarded his soul as greetings, not of words, but of pure concepts, threatened to break him even as it strengthened him. They were his companions, the constants that he could trust that would never disappear. They will stay with him even after time ends and death closes the doors of existence..._

_... Chains of deepest black wrapped and restrained the stars of his soul. They were not merely the color black, for a color could not be as deep nor could be as ethereal yet solid. They were a gap in existence; a break in the reality created by his soul. They devoured the light of his stars to fuel their existence. His stars let out heartbreaking wails, pain evident as maleficent chains devoured their potential. Their cries would drive man to the deepest despair even as unreality bled unto reality. He was the one who had shackled them with these infernal restraints and yet, they sang no anger, they yelled no resentment as they only cried for the joy his mere presence grants them..._

_... A hand was raised and his suns' melody pitched in a climax of joy. His soul shook as a charge died and energy, enough to end entire universes and create more escaped from its corpse. Even then it continued to celebrate in bliss as it had become of use to its creator; fulfilling its purpose under the joyous yet envious presence of its siblings for they could not act as they were in a torturous restraint with the might of their origin..._

_... Stars turned to dust and planets emerged as he directed his charge's energy to creation. Divine knowledge granted by his stars guided his motions as he shaped energy into his desired form. Unknown was the time he spent in his soul but he knew it wouldn't even be a second in reality. Energy gained form, kaleidoscopic color drained into a singular shade. Knowledge filtered into his mind as he knew all that he would about his new creation. A planetary giant of ghostly blue, it was his creation, his ability; to walk the planes of infinite creation. His was the power to control space-to twist, to turn, to severe, to replace, to create-and time was no less different. The boundary of all creation, past, present, future of those within and without was now in his eyes. Their ever-changing seas, his to plot, to chart, to traverse. His charges sang that same maddening song that mortals were never meant to hear. Their power was his to command yet those chains that he bound them with devoured the light of his creation. His charges wailed with rage at his chains' ravenous hunger and their impudence to devour power that was his. His creation's light still reached him but its power was a pale imitation-no, not even a shadow of his original intent. So reduced had it become that what was once the absolute control of Space-Time, had become the simple ability to shift his existence into a single higher or lower mirror dimension..._

_... But that was fine. It was enough..._

_... It was more than enough..._

Planeswalker.

This was the name of the ability that was spawned by the stars of his soul. A reduced result of the true ability his quirk had created, yet was purposefully restrained; another name for the reduced ability to separate it from its original, superior form.

Izuku, now dressed in his swallowtail tuxedo, had a small smirk on his lip. Though reduced to a shadow of a shadow of a shadow, this ability was still too powerful for most people to handle.

His existence had been thrown into a higher dimension thus, to all who could not perceive different dimensions, he would be akin to the wind on their skin, the shadow beneath their feet; for those who exist in a higher state of being can never be understood by those lower than it.

Existing in creation with certainty, but unnoticed, unknown to all.

Musutafu was situated near Tokyo Bay, so a few of the city's most profitable businesses, are shipping and fishing. In order to take full advantage of their location, the city had long built docks to house their ships and to store the goods that these ships bring.

And so, if one wanted to house multiple hostages and provide a quick escape route, then one should look no further than the Musutafu Docks.

Plentiful space.

Ample covers to hide in or behind.

A direct access to the sea and ships.

To the people he was hunting, those who had intended to harm his mistress, this was the best place to hold their hostages. Even if the heroes or police would be able to find out that they were in the docks, due to the amount of warehouses and storage rooms that were in the area, both arms of the law would not be able to determine where the hostages were kept and where those mercenaries-and they were most definitely mercenaries!-are hiding in. They would be long alerted to any commotion caused by others. Both authorities would be unable to use their quirks or equipment easily as there was a chance that they could cause unnecessary collateral damage and accidentally hurt the hostages.

Walking around unnoticed as he continued to look for clues, if Izuku were to be honest, were he the one to kidnap and take people as hostages, he wouldn't be caught dead using the docks as his base. He would rather hide in the city as it had more hiding places that he could use that were not known to the heroes and routes that he had already planned to use if he ever wanted to get out of the city undetected.

Though perhaps he should take into account that the assailants were most likely foreigners who do not know the city as good as he does and give them their due.

He kept to the shadows as even if he was undetectable by most means, it was still best to prepare for the worst and assume that his prey had a way to detect him and have the extra cover rather than be caught flatfooted.

Rounding a corner Izuku spotted something at corner of his eye.

It was a patch of cloth merely 5 centimeters in length. Fluttering lightly on the sea breeze he could see that it was stuck on a nail that was sticking out of the side of a wooden crate. Black and gray were its colors and he could identify the borders of a particular pattern that was used most often by one certain branch of any government.

It was a camouflage pattern-more specifically, it was an urban camouflage pattern.

Unbidden, Izuku's placid smile changed. It was a mere twitch of the corner of his lips but one would never mistake it for his earlier expression.

It was a smile filled with bestial savagery; an expression a predator would wear as it picked up on their prey's scent. He looked down, and he could see numerous footprints that looked like they were purposefully smudged-_perhaps in an attempt to hide their tracks?, _he thought.

He stood up from his kneeling position and looked towards the direction the smudged footprints had been pointing to. Immediately, he took to the shadows and swiftly went towards the path his mistress's would-be assailants took.

Though his speed had picked up now that he knew where his targets had gone too, he still took care to remain hidden even with the advantage granted to him by Planeswalker.

Izuku jumped and scaled a warehouse to his left and saw the end of the tracks he had followed.

His eyes narrowed as another chained star died and was reborn. Sight changed and sharpened as his view took in another reality. Colors bled into black, and green lines outlined all objects in his field of vision; even those hidden behind walls or containers.

Izuku saw through the walls of the warehouse and saw the prey he was hunting. He counted 30 soldiers and what seemed to be their leader and second in command.

He had seen 50 mercenaries storm the garden villa and 20 were missing from his vision. This may mean that others had been hiding or, they were doing something else. If it was the latter option, then they may be preparing their escape routes and options.

If that were the case, he would need to find them and eliminate them first.

_No sense in allowing the enemies to have a method of retreat_, he thought.

While satisfied that he had received his desired ability, he couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment in his chest. It had been his decision, but his reduced state had really weakened the abilities that he could wield.

He was still getting used to it even after all these years.

Burying his disappointment to the back of his mind, Izuku jumped from the edge of the warehouse's roof and landed soundlessly on his feet. Leisurely, he walked towards the location that housed the targets of his ire; he did not even bother to stop as he faced the locked door as he had passed through the barrier as if it did not exist.

The burning, churning fire in his chest raged.

It flowed slowly, painfully through his veins.

_... Her eyes widened, terrified, as multiple sinister canisters flew through the air..._

Red tried to drown his vision but his steely will and control did not waver.

Anger flooded his being as Izuku remembered Momo's terrified face. His face set into an apathetic expression, none of his anger showed even as he took note of his targets' various positions.

_... Those who had disturbed his mistress and friend were in front of him..._

_... They who had dared to try to touch what were his..._

Flames burned behind his pupils as savage, primal howls filled his ears. Izuku knew that they were not real. He knew that they were merely a product of his mind, but, the chains that rattled, the roars that threatened to burst his ears-they represented much more than a hallucination could ever be.

Sadistic delight burned within as straining chains relaxed and an inhuman purr melded into his psyche.

A missing piece, finally in place.

A third chained celestial burst within the infinite boundaries of his soul as he could feel his body strengthen beyond human limits and grant him total, perfect control over his physique. His senses strengthened beyond their limits and his ears could hear the sirens of police cruisers and the movements of heroes as they hunted for his prey.

His preparations were complete.

"Tonight, I join the hunt."


	5. Chapter 4

HEROES RISE Arc Part 4

_Eidolon_

_Noun: Eidolon; Plural Noun: Eidola; Plural Noun: Eidolons_

_Meaning: An idealized person or thing; a specter or a phantom._

Such thoughts ran at the back of his mind even as he stepped unnoticed among his targets. At the moment he truly was an eidolon - a phantom in their midst.

Planeswalker made all those of lesser dimensions ignorant of his presence.

A finger flicked.

An unheard _thwip_ resounded in his ears as monomolecular wires - thinner than a single strand of hair yet 300 times stronger than steel - shot to a wall and weaved into intricate patterns under his careful and masterful control.

Izuku's lips twitched in a small expression on his otherwise blank facade; finding humor at the thought and the personal significance of the word.

_... "How interesting... " her silky voice crept in his ears and into his battered mind. He was exhausted both mentally and physically. The tortures he had endured in the name of training had drained him of his faculties. "I wonder if this could be called fate, or coincidence, for there to be another?" smooth fingertips grazed his sunken cheeks even as he tried-and failed-to move away. "For you, my dear, to attain singularity... Fufufu. How truly interesting." His head was tilted up and his tired eyes met her ruby gaze. "Are you perhaps the ideal, or are you the phantom that we would chase? Who will you be... little Eidolon?"..._

Another finger twitched; perhaps harder than intended.

Another _thwip_ was heard by him alone and a shimmer in the air was almost seen by the prey he had been hunting; careful control lost in a sudden rage and hidden fear.

Izuku clicked his tongue, annoyed that he had gotten shaken by a far-off memory and as a result he had gotten sloppy over the execution of a rather simple maneuver. He had been lucky that the shimmer had been miniscule and unnoticeable and that no one was paying attention.

Izuku had spotted who seemed to be the Commanding Officer and his second in command earlier on the upper balcony that looked upon the whole warehouse, however, he had decided to leave those two on their own for now. He would rather eliminate the foot soldiers first rather than the officers.

He was not in a hurry, after all.

It would take some time before the other Hunters - the Heroes and the Police - find the tracks that would lead them to his prey.

Though they were certainly dangerous, he could confidently say without hubris that he could defeat them just fine but, he would prefer to face them after he dealt with their numbers a bit.

No need to make things more complicated.

He was powerful, and there could be no doubt about that, but Izuku was never careless. He would never allow himself to fall into complacency.

Complacency brought stagnation.

Stagnation bred weakness.

Weakness will lead you to death.

This was one of the first lessons he had learned; one that had been drilled into his head until his every waking moment had been driven by this lesson.

It was a core tenet of his being.

Unnoticed, he had slipped into the middle of the group of hostages. Izuku ignored their cries, protests, threats or the snide comments made towards the group of mercenaries that took them from their leisurely night; he had no need, nor the interest, for such insignificant people.

Izuku threw his hands to the sides showing that he was wearing a pair of black full gloves. They were a gift from his mistress's father, Suzuki Yaoyorozu-dono, made of a rather new and experimental material called a Tri-nano Graphene-Titanium weave that he had hoped to sell to the military while his fingertips were covered with small metal claws and the back of his hand had a small spool of wire - showing that these were no ordinary gloves.

This was a weapon.

This was the very first weapon that he had used and mastered - weaving his strings like the webs of fate with all paths leading to one ending: Death.

It's name was Kumoito...

... And his enemies would learn to fear its name.

**()**

Total failure.

Those were the only words that could successfully describe the colossal mess that this mission had become.

_It'll be easy, they said._

_It's a piece of cake, they said!_

_It will be a simple smash and grab, they said!_

_Whoever said that, come here and let me beat you black and blue!_

These were the thoughts that raged under 1st Lt. Yuri Petrov's calm facade. A stream of thin, white smoke rose from his lit cigar as he savored the flavor of the expensive product.

In all his years in service to the PMC, he had found that smoking lessened his stress and relaxed him better than any other coping method. A coping method that was now failing to contain his anger at their recent failure.

Leaning on the balcony railing outside the warehouse's main office, Yuri took a deep drag of the cigar and let it linger for a handful of seconds, losing himself to the flavor and the feeling of nicotine in his veins, before expelling it all in one big sigh.

Already, he could feel the concerned eyes of his SIC behind him, but Yuri paid him no mind; merely staring at his soldiers who had continued to secure their hostages - necessary to facilitate their escape. He could even see some of the medical officers provide first aid to some of their minor injuries.

Let it be said that though they were merciless mercenaries, they were not inhuman.

He watched as his subordinates continued to ignore their hostages even as they began to hurl insults on their parentage, their nationality, even petty ones upon their sexuality. Yuri looked upon them with disdain visibly plain on his rugged features.

These were the rich, who never had been in want of anything.

These were the privileged men and women, who had been born with power in their hands.

These were the _'Upper Class of Society'_, nobles who held the country in their hands.

... Or so they would like to think.

The sneer that he had tried to hold back appeared on his face, lending him a frightening visage that had Alek behind him, flinch in instinctive terror even if he couldn't see the expression on Yuri's face.

He watched with dark glee as the worms beneath him began to panic and allow their terror to truly take hold of them as his well disciplined men and women ignored their existence even as they hurled stronger and dirtier insults; leaving the spineless cowards to have no method to cope with the situation they suddenly found themselves in.

Yes, those below him, they were truly worms.

No, worse; they were parasites.

Sucking the vitality of the people, working them to utter exhaustion or death for their own agenda and greed, there was no better word to describe their existence.

If other people had heard him and had he spoken his honest thoughts, they would most definitely accuse him of bias towards the rich. Though they would not be wrong, this was still how he thought of them.

And these were the rewards he and his men received after an extensive operation? After all the effort they had spent? A sense of failure and shame? Incessant, yapping, pitiful worms? A hunt for their respective heads?

Truly...

"What a waste," he couldn't help but sigh.

They had failed to secure their primary objective: The Yaoyorozu heiress, Momo Yaoyorozu, from the party. She wasn't even _in _the venue!

Of course, since they had failed their primary objective, they weren't even able to perform the second one and it would truly take a miracle of the highest order for them to succeed at the third given parameter; they were simply no rogues, they were the cavalry that came with thundering noise.

In other words, total failure, indeed.

After their swift actions, he had instructed his subordinates to identify their captives but none of them matched their objective. Once more, he had given an order to search the grounds to see if she had been hiding.

It was a subordinate of his who had gone to the garden and had discovered a trio of portable gas masks.

It was Alek who had notified him that it was not only the Yaoyorozu heiress who had gone missing but another guest and the objective's date for the night, too.

Yuri had immediately deployed a squad to check if the heiress had gone back to her mansion and, if possible, to bring her back with them.

One hour later, the squad returned and reported that the entire mansion had been abandoned and that all the valuables had been kept in a vault beneath the cellar.

That was when he had declared the mission as a failure and to prepare for withdrawal.

Now here he was, the _Great_ Yuri Petrov, watching his subordinates with a cigar in his mouth holding his own pity party. It wasn't that this was the first time he had experienced a failed mission. No, he had felt his fair share of failure and shame.

Not that he liked it one bit!

The worst of it all, is that this mistake would not have happened if they had not gotten arrogant and complacent.

Sigh...

"Who knew that one measly attendant would be the source of our current problems," Yuri lamented as he rubbed his aging face.

_Hmm, the stubble on my jaw seems to have gotten untamed - best to shave it after this_, he thought.

"Sir?"

Hearing a voice behind him, he turned around only to be met with the worried stare of the man who had been standing quietly the entire time.

"Is something the matter, 1st Lieutenant?"

Although the 2nd Lieutant retained his perpetual eerie grin, Yuri had come to know how to read Alek through his eyes.

His SIC had been worried. He must have gotten contemplative for quite some time now if Alek was worried over his silence.

Yuri shook his head and waved his hand in a 'so-so' manner to indicate that he was fine. It took a few more seconds of careful observation from his SIC before Alek nodded back and returned his gaze towards his comrades-in-arms and stood in a relaxed yet formal stance.

Izuku Midoriya

That had been the name of his current headache.

A week before the operation, he had commanded his intelligence officers to conduct an investigation on the guests that would be attending the Musutafu Annual Charity Ball seeing as invitations had been given ahead of time - a month ahead, in fact.

His officers had not even taken a full five days to compile the most extensive information they had found out about the guests and their dates or other plus ones.

Yuri had created a plan based on the information that he was provided with while making contingencies around resistance and chance unexpected encounters that could prove detrimental to the mission. Of course, he had read the file gathered around the subject, Izuku Midoriya.

Plain

That was the only word he could describe the information gathered on him.

Izuku Midoriya was an orphan found by the heiress of the Yaoyorozu Conglomerate and had thus been brought into the household as her personal servant.

Intelligent, if his various accolades were anything to go by.

Handsome with a distinguished charm, or was it charisma?

Loyal if the amount of time spent in service to the heiress was taken into account.

All the information had painted him as an intelligent, hard working, driven, orphan who had served his Primary out of genuine gratitude. Surely, it was an impressive record - for a civilian.

A quirkless civilian, at that.

His intelligence officers were thorough with their investigations and had confirmed that there was no registered quirk for one Izuku Midoriya within the National Quirk Registry.

Yuri had promptly dismissed him after that.

Though the population of quirk-users dominated the world population by 60%, the remaining 40% were made up of the quirkless. Even if the difference that divided the species into a majority and minority were a mere 10%, discrimination of the majority upon the minority was still evident.

Although it was called discrimination, it was not out of petty physical differences or the notion of superiority - though it was the reason for some people - but in ability. Those born with the activated Alpha-Plus Genes - responsible for quirk generation - had a naturally superior body aside from the abilities granted to them upon birth.

They were stronger.

They were faster.

They were more durable.

They were healthier and more resistant to diseases.

Those with particularly strong quirks like Yuri, himself, had a physique that was stronger than the quirkless by 15 times their natural average strength. Even those of weak quirks like the lengthening of nails, for example, were still 2-5 times stronger than the quirkless in spite their weak inborn abilities.

The best example of this is Japan's Underground Pro-Hero, Eraserhead. His quirk, devoid of physical enhancements, merely being a projection of a field of Alpha-Plus Radiation Negation originating from his eyes, he was more than capable of clearing entire three story buildings in a single leap. His physical strength too was such that he was able to damage those who had physical enhancement quirks even without engaging his own quirk against his enemies.

This was the reason why he had not thought much about the attendant. His quick dismissal and unknowing disdain for Izuku and the other quirkless guests, were a product of nearly a century's worth of propaganda; one that Yuri wholeheartedly believed in.

That arrogance was their mistake.

Yuri didn't know if it was due to superior physical skill, talent, or intelligence that moved Izuku Midoriya to bypass their net, or he had been an agent recruited by the Yaoyorozu family whose quirk had been hidden even to the government. It could even be both for all he knew.

Either way, they had paid for their erroneous assumptions with failure.

A pair of quick feet grabbed his attention and he turned towards the stairs. There, one of his younger soldiers hurriedly approached his location in a fast, but sedate pace. The young man quickly reached him before snapping into a sharp salute, one that Yuri was mildly impressed with.

_Kid must have practiced it in front of a mirror every morning or something_, he thought.

Even Alek, the creepy SIC of his platoon, was impressed, and that guy was way stricter than him too!

The young man looked to be in his mid-twenties, pretty young to be in a mercenary career, in his own opinion. He had brown hair and a handsome if average face.

A new recruit, if his overeager face said anything. _Kid was probably excited to join the PMCs_, he thought. Ever since the global demilitarization and the advent of quirks, two of the most popular jobs had then been through Internal National Security and through Global PMCs.

In other words, Heroes and the Military.

Every boys dream job.

"So, rookie," Yuri called in his usual rumbling voice after dismissing the salute. "What do you have for me?"

"Sir!"

Yuri couldn't help the small twitch at the corner of his lips. Amusement was heavy within his chest as he struggled not to laugh at the newcomer's face. They were always the most earnest and enthusiastic on the job, so as he grew older, he couldn't help but enjoy their youthful energy.

"All preparations for withdrawal are complete. We are simply waiting for further instructions, 1st Lieutenant."

"Good work," Alek replied from behind him.

Yuri couldn't help but feel proud. He had given the instructions to prepare their transport and supplies just an hour ago; immediately after arriving in their temporary hideaway. The fact that they only needed an hour to clear up despite the numerous materials they had brought with them, spoke immensely of the hard work his platoon had put in.

Reaching out to the back of his utility belt, he pulled out a long, thin rod of silvery white metal and plastic. Pressing a button near the top of the rod, a slit opened along its side and a paper thin crystal-like material extended from the rod.

It looked like a screen.

It took a second but the crystal-like material was, in fact, a screen if how it shone with light and displayed its manufacturer logo was any indication.

This was one of the innovations that appeared in the past 400 years after Quirks first appeared.

It was called the Dynamic Data Recollection, also known as the DDR

Due to the advances in the field of science and miniaturization, this small rod can function as a powerful personalized computer and phone. With multiple apps that could be downloaded into it ranging from entertainment to everyday convenience, it had gained widespread use since its first release more than a hundred years ago from various users.

Since its conception, many variations of the technology had been created to suit different purposes and customizations. Within Yuri's grasp had been one of the most highly acclaimed models, known for its sheer durability and hardiness, widely used in most Global PMCs: the DDR NK-3310.

Yuri operated his DDR with experienced hands and selected his desired contact from his list of phone numbers. With a soft press of a finger, he called the number of the Squad Leaders and their teams that he had sent to secure their transportation.

His DDR rang and rang; waiting for the call to connect.

_... Never knowing that it was too late._

**()**

_Ring..._

_Ring..._

The steady ringing of a silver bell-like tune resounded and destroyed the silence that enshrouded it from the beginning - rousing a figure splayed out upon a surface.

_Ring..._

_Ring..._

Shadows danced and reached out towards the struggling figure.

It was a dark and cloudy night sky that overlooked it. Great, big clouds drifted by as its gaps shed sparse moonlight; barely illuminating the path that it should take. Sparse as it was, it was still enough to show what it was on.

It was a ship.

To be specific, it was a crew boat.

It was 30 feet in length, and 20 feet in height, its capacity was more than enough to fit at least 50 people. Its hull was colored in blue while the bridge, and the foredeck were painted in white.

In the light of day, the ship would have been viewed with admiration from other seafarers and dock workers. The boat was kept in pristine condition with regular maintenance and one would suspect that it was treated with loving care.

That ship...

_... Was the scene of a nightmare._

Twenty bodies were scattered in various states on the boat's deck. Some were whole and alive, unconscious they may be, while some were truly dead; the extent of the maiming their bodies endured were far too much for people, quirked or not.

Some of those who had died were suspended and strung up on what seemed to be thin air in a macabre display of visceral art, but their flowing blood - both from their still bodies and from amputated limbs - and the rare moonlight, revealed that they were tied up with thin, near invisible strings.

Like a spider-web.

A perversion of the arachnid's home.

This was the scene that Sgt. Lucille Farrow woke up to.

Two wide, bloodshot eyes, unable to remove themselves from the gory parody of art, took in the horrifying state of the Squad she was supposed to lead. Out of the 7 soldiers in her squad, her blank mind could only numbly identify two who were still alive.

_W-w-what... h-happened... ?_

Grievously injured - enough to bring them to the brink of death, but still alive.

_W-who... d-did, this... ?_

All others had died. Whether that was from bleeding out of fatal injuries, or from being torn apart; like a demon had plucked their limbs from their bodies, her numb mind was unable to register it.

All she knew was that they were dead.

Just like the other Squad they were with; they too were butchered before they died.

"A-ah..."

A strangled voice leaked out from between her lips.

Was it a scream?

Was she too numb that all she could exclaim was akin to a sigh?

Was it a laugh?

Clearly it was supposed to be a laugh at what was surely an illusion made by a quirk. Was she supposed to laugh at the prank? It was too bloody to be a prank one of her subordinates would usually play on their fellow soldiers. Surely, it had to be a prank...

Right?

... Right... ?

She didn't know.

_She didn't know._

She hated that she didn't know.

But surely it had to be! It, had to be because this scene that was burning itself into her memories through her eyes would be too horrifying, too terrorizing for her soul.

_It would break her mind._

Her breathing quickened.

"A-aahh... !"

_I'm hyperventilating_, the small part of her mind that was long used to death and had grown numb to it with the overuse of logic had noted.

Lucille had not noticed when she had changed her position from laying on her back to sitting on her butt. She did not notice when her scratchy voice leaked out quietly as she tried to scream her dread but had become strangled in her throat; as if she were too scared to even make a sound.

... As if there was something there that she should be wary of.

The growing pool of blood that had been beneath the bodies slowly spread to her direction. Instinct overrode even the petrifying horror in her heart. The desire to move away from something unpleasant, to run away from a sign of danger forced her paralyzed body to move.

Her arms that supported her body moved in a spastic, frantic motion that tried to flee from the pool of blood. Seeing the approaching body of liquid life, and noticing that her movement was too slow with merely her arms to use, Lucille tried to use her paralyzed legs.

She lifted one of them with success and immediately used it to hasten her escape.

"A-A-AAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

A piercing scream rang out into the night. Lucille fell onto her back as she continued to scream.

Pain filled her being.

Pain was what she saw, what she heard, what she tasted, what she felt.

Pain was her existence.

Pain overwrote her memories as she contorted into shapes not meant for the human body; she had broken some of her bones as she thrashed like a fish out of water.

Blood ran down her face from when she slammed her head unto the deck of the boat in a vain effort to chase the pain away. Her vision red from ruptured blood vessels, Lucille looked down and saw the reason for her pain.

Gone.

It was all gone.

From two inches above where her knees should be all the way down, her legs were gone. She saw one of them - identifiable from all the other severed limbs - to her right with a woven anklet made of sheep's wool dyed pink wrapped around her ankle.

Her muscles twitched and white-hot searing pain brought her to agony and white flashed into her vision.

Raw muscle had rubbed against the metal flooring in an attempt to move and pain had branded itself into her being. Taking care not to aggravate her amputated legs, hazy eyes filled with soul-shattering agony registered that it was too smooth.

The section of where her leg had been cut did not have any uneven parts and even as blood overflowed from the open wound, it was clear to see that bone had been severed with no issue in the slightest.

Her breathing quickened once more.

Her heart hammered into her chest with a presence she had not felt before.

Lucille could feel her body go into shock, but she forced herself to avoid it as she was sure that she would die if she did not snap back to consciousness.

She stared at her bloody stump forcing herself to avert her eyes and to calm down. She would go into shock if she were to continue to gaze upon her own injury.

_H-how did this happen... ?_

She tried to remember what led into this vision of death; trying to focus on that thought instead of her bleeding injury. She combed the recesses of her mind and ran through her muddy memories.

She wanted to know.

Who did this?

Why did they do it?

What happened to reduce them to this?

Lucille wanted to know it all.

Blood like rubies, mixed with the spray of salt water, dangled like morning dew from thin threads that cocooned numerous cadavers. Such thin strings stimulated her numb mind as it brought forth buried memories.

Memories that forced her traumatized mind to shatter further.

_Ah,_ she remembered.

**HE** appeared as they were preparing the utility vessel. Like a phantom in the night, he was unnoticed until one of the other squad's members approached his position.

His startled scream and choking gasps were what alerted them that they were not alone.

As they all turned to him, what they found was their comrade held in thin air as he vainly scratched at his throat before going still. Arms uselessly flopped at his side and eyes were wide as they nearly popped out of their sockets. His face, was twisted into an expression of utter fear.

The fear of Death.

And there behind the corpse of what was once their friend, he stood in silence. Its form was human and was dressed impeccably in a charcoal black swallowtail tuxedo over a pure white dress shirt with a stiff collar and a thin black tie.

Lucille could remember its wavy green hair, and handsome face, but there was no doubt in her mind - that was not human.

That was the Devil reborn on Earth.

For surely, no human had eyes as inhuman as it possessed nor a smile as blank as it had over its face. She could only tremble in fear as its monstrous intent pressed itself against her mind.

Blood-lust.

Hatred.

Anger, so sharp that she could feel it part her skin. She could feel these emotions and much more overwhelm her as it briefly locked its gaze to hers.

She couldn't move. From the corners of her eyes she could see that her companions, too, suffered her same state.

"I'm sorry," it had said.

_No, you're not_, she had thought.

His eyes had not displayed any sort of emotion of apology or regret. All it had shone her was the dark satisfaction of a predator toying with its prey. She had seen that dark glimmer once on a cat as it played with a cornered mouse.

Cruel.

Calculating.

Sadistic.

Those same dark desires were now reflected upon emerald orbs that washed over their still, petrified forms.

"But you tried to touch what was not to be disturbed. You had dared to sully the scales of a dragon."

It stepped forward past the corpse that was still suspended in mid-air.

She and her remaining companions tensed as their hands tightened their grips on their weapons. She saw his smile grow wider, and Lucille could never forget the image that would forever cement that figure as the Devil in her mind.

"You tried to touch my Mistress."

All she could remember then were a blur of screams and arcs of blood out of severed limbs and bodies.

All she could remember was the pain of her legs as they were severed from below as she fell to her back.

All she could remember was passing out from the pain.

Lucille knew that the Devil had severed a major artery in her legs if the large amount of blood she was losing was any indication and thus she must have lost consciousness only for a few seconds.

At the rate she was losing blood however, would mean she had only a few minutes left to live. She was unaware how long she had spaced out in a horrible reminiscence but she made peace that she was already at the end of her line.

Her vision had already grown blurry from excessive blood-loss.

She was feeling cold from the loss of heat.

She was breathing harder than she should have.

She was dying and there was no denying that.

_... -ing..._

_Rin- ..._

It was faint, but Lucille could pick up a sound akin to the chimes of silver bells. She knew that tone. It was the tone of her DDR set to ring once a certain number calls for her.

The 1st Lieutenant was calling for her.

A jolt revitalized her losing mind.

_That's right,_ she thought as she struggled to crawl towards where the sound was coming from. _I need to warn the 1st Lieutenant_.

She crawled on her stomach; not even minding the pathetic figure she would have displayed had anybody been there to see it.

_Ring..._

_Ring... _

She made for the sound once more. She needed to reach that DDR. She needed to warn Yuri. There was an enemy on their tails - no, there was an enemy who knew where they were and was now hunting them down. She needed to tell him to get himself and the others out of there.

Lucille kept these thoughts in her mind; using them as her source of motivation. This was the push she utilized in order to survive for just that bit longer.

It felt like an eternity but she had finally reached her DDR which was drowning in a pool of blood made by one of her dead subordinates.

She was exhausted.

She had no strength left in her limbs as she could only move her finger to unfold the DDR's crystal display. She saw the Lieutenants number flashing - indicating that he had been calling her number.

She could move no longer. It took momentous effort to move even a single finger. Half her vision had gone blind and she could no longer hear the silver bell chimes.

Lucille tried to press the screen to answer the call but before the call could connect, it had already disconnected.

_N-no..._

Her half-blind vision took in the flashing symbol of a disconnected call, despairing as her effort was for naught and her message left unheard.

As her mind descended into the darkness, she could only offer a silent, dying prayer for her comrades' safety and a curse for the Devil who had taken her.

This was how Sergeant Lucille Farrow died.

She would be discovered in the next two hours after the whole ordeal had been dealt with by the heroes who would be patrolling for any other stragglers of her platoon.

Her eyes half-closed, and her face frozen in despair as her hand reached out towards a DDR with an empty battery.

**()**

Hard eyes stared at the DDR as it continued to blink the same symbol after the call got cut just before it began. The beeping noise of a disconnected phone reached his ears, but Yuri disregarded it. His grip on his DDR tightened as a sense of wrongness chilled his insides.

_That's not possible._

Quickly, his eyes flickered to the top right corner of the crystal display and saw an empty graph. This graph was the DDR's representation for its signal strength and to see it empty would not have been such a surprise in any other model, but not in this case.

In Yuri's hand was the NK-3310 renowned all over the world for its durability, ability to weather extreme conditions, and its exceptional ability to receive a DDR signal from anywhere on earth.

He could have been in the middle of a deserted island deep in the middle of the unknown regions of the Pacific, and he would still receive an exceptional signal strength.

He could have dived the deepest underwater trenches and not only would it have continued to function, he would then be able to call anyone around the world.

This was one of the reasons why this particular DDR model was widely received and used by various military organizations around the world.

Yuri's eyes narrowed in suspicious thought.

_To be unable to receive any sort of signal should be impossible but..._

"Alek!"

His SIC stumbled at the sharp edge in his voice but he ignored it as he continued to contemplate.

"My DDR can't contact them," from the corner of his eyes, he could see his SIC look at him incredulously - not that he could blame the lad. "Contact Sgt. Farrow on your own terminal."

The SIC's disbelief was understandable seeing as he too, could hardly believe the current circumstances. There was never a situation where their DDR had failed. If Yuri could recall, there was even a rumor where A Certain Company launched a rocket to the moon just to see if the terminal could still receive a signal on an entirely different celestial body.

Although, he couldn't recall the result of the rumor - whether they had succeeded or not.

Patiently he waited as his eyes carefully scanned the entire warehouse. The pervading chill in his body had grown into a frost comparable to the tundras of the north while a tingling sensation tickled the back of his mind.

He knew what that was.

He knew what it meant.

This was a feeling that saved Yuri's life numerous times. He had never ignored this sensation and his trust over it had grown with time. His reward for such trust was a heightened awareness of his being.

It was the feeling of a connection to the World.

A sensation that would let him sense the currents of the ever-changing winds of fate.

Heeding the call of his instincts, he let his gaze wash over the group of hostages in the center of his platoon yet he never let them out of his field of vision.

"Damn..."

Yuri heard the soft exclamation behind him. Alek cursed as he stared at his own DDR - the same model Yuri had in possession - glaring at his similarly blank graph.

He wasted no time.

His hand flew to his side.

It was the fastest draw he had done till date with his eyes aimed through the iron sights of his pistol. His gun was aimed at the center of the hostages; well above their heads.

Some might think that he had been mistaken and that he was aiming mid-air but he will tell them otherwise. Yuri Petrov was a man who followed his instincts no matter what. To others, he was more of a beast than a man.

His instincts told him that danger was in the spot he was aiming at; in a space that was merely a foot and a half wide gap at the center of his hostages.

His instincts had never led him wrong before, and so, he fired.

**BANG!**

He ignored the way his men startled and aimed their weapons right at the spot he had shot - thinking that there was an enemy that they had missed and should attack.

He ignored the screams of the hostages below.

He ignored the way his SIC tensed and his whip-like tail lash out in a position that would allow it to attack or defend in an instant.

All that was in his eyes, was the bullet he had shot as it became visible in everybody's eyes as it had been stopped by what seemed to be an invisible barrier. To Yuri though, due to his location and the angle he could see through, he saw what had stopped his bullet.

Thin, near invisible strings weaved together forming a net that caught his bullet; holding strong even as the projectile's continuous momentum ground against it creating numerous luminous sparks.

He only watched as he observed the location his instincts pointed where the enemy was at. As it had been stated before, it was impossible to receive no signal in his DDR; not when it was designed to receive a clear reception and to receive a clear contact from anyone in the planet from even the depths of space.

If his DDR was unable to receive a call or message, or send one out, it only meant one thing: A Jammer had been applied to the warehouse, possibly even beyond it.

Soon, his shot lost its motion and dropped powerlessly from the net that caught it.

There was a second of shocked silence before his loud command shattered that.

"FIRE!"

The loud staccato of semi-automatic gunfire covered up any sound from fearful civilians as they looked into what would seem to be their death, but surely, their lives would not end today.

That was something Yuri's instincts whispered into his ears.

It was not wrong.

Too fast for the human eyes, quirked or not, flashes bloomed in the air as numerous bullets were deflected and blocked one after the other or simultaneously.

It was a masterful performance that missed no bullet nor allowed any harm to come to the hostages.

Yuri did not know how long it took - seconds, minutes? - but the guns slowly tapered off, magazines emptied of their contents. His men immediately reloaded and aimed once more at the scared civilians but did not fire again.

Tensions were running high.

Sweat beaded down his forehead as his instincts practically shrieked into his mind down into his very soul:

_... The enemy is still here._

_... A greater predator still hunts for us._

_... Death is coming for us._

To reiterate, Yuri trusted his instincts more than any human would have. Intuition urged him to flee for he could not fight what was there. It told him and whispered to him of defeat should he face the threat he is now burdened with.

Terrified hostages huddled to feel a measure of safety and comfort but Yuri knew... he knew that they were not safe at all. Though he and his men were the ones to shoot in their direction where a single missed shot can spell the end for the civilians, they still were not the most dangerous being in this location.

No, that title belonged to whatever invisible threat remained hidden.

"Are you not going to come out?"

His eyes kept on scanning the environment to ensure that he did not miss anything.

"We already know your there," his soldiers tensed as they too began to inspect their surroundings. "Are you truly craven enough that you would hide in the shadows?"

His ears caught a peculiar sound. It was soft but had a distinctive rise and fall. Yuri then realized what it was: it was a laugh.

He scrunched his brows as he could not stop the reflexive annoyance one would get when they realize that someone would be mocking their person, but he did not dare lose his focus.

Awareness flickered.

There, on the spot he had previously shot his weapon at, a figured appeared as if it were a mirage.

No, that was wrong. Instead of a mirage, it should probably more correct to say that the figure had merely slipped into existence into the spot he was now occupying. When once there had been nothing, that assumption was denied by that person; surprising the hostages that surrounded it.

"How did you know?"

It was male, that was something that was evident by its features.

The man's voice was a smooth baritone that brought many a blush to his female subordinates. He was dressed in black cargo pants and steel-tipped combat boots. Yuri had no idea what color his shirt was as it was covered by a dark green long coat that covered his upper body and arms all the way down to his calves. A dark purple mask covered his face; one that had two small horns on its forehead and exposed only the eyes and the mouth that was stretched into an amused smile.

But what truly grabbed Yuri's attention was the hair.

It was a wild mane of waist length hair that spiked in all directions with no rhyme nor reason. Normally such untameable mess would be enough to garner excessive attention, but in this mysterious man's case it would have been its color.

Blood.

It was the color of freshly spilled blood and looked like flames as it shifted to the this person's movements under the overhead lights.

"Just a gut feeling," Yuri replied to the earlier inquiry.

He could feel the burgeoning threat of violence among his subordinates. The uneasy swaying of his SIC's demonic tail gave away his trepidation despite the ever-present grin on his face just as the tense shoulders of his men on the floor below displayed their unease no matter the disciplined front they tried to portray.

_This tension is getting to me_, he absently thought as he too, tried to maintain his cool mask.

Shifting the pistol in his hand Yuri reminded the stranger that he was still armed and aimed its iron sights right on their forehead. He studiously ignored the amused shine in their golden pupils at his subtle yet heavily implied threat.

"Now," he softly rumbled as a tense breath was released. "Can you tell me who the hell you are?"


	6. Chapter 5

A patch of blood-red hair fell over his eyes as Izuku shifted to look at each individual mercenary in front of him. His casual smile - ever-present on his current persona - widened the tiniest bit and conveyed an undeniable sense of amusement for all to sense; adding on to the rising tensions.

Izuku could see that his calm, amused and undaunted demeanor even in the face of superior numbers had unnerved this mercenary unit's Commanding Officer. He could tell that the current image of his form reflected in their eyes was not helping them keep their cool.

Good...

That was what he was aiming for anyway.

_... A star wreathed in dark green light shuddered within a chained embrace. He watched as it collapsed and drew into itself as different stars in a multitude of colors began to sing a tune of giddy emotions. It was the song of beginnings. It was the song of rebirth. He watched with patience as the star collapsed into a single black dot, darker than the space that was its backdrop, outlined by pure, white light..._

_... It was the inevitable..._

_... It was the end of every celestial body..._

_... It was the death of a star..._

_... Luminous, infinite kaleidoscopic light burst forth from the corpse of the star. From within the black hole, came the beat of life and the endless march of endless possibilities. He could feel the reduced ability to view the framework - the Truths - of the world fade from the boundless walls of his soul as the power was destroyed and reborn as his charge once more. He had no more need for this ability. His hands reached out as he began to shape this infinite well of power into the form he desired. Songs of excitement became his companion as his charges/abilities reminded him that he had used them more times this day than he did for all the months before. He accepted their wordless joyful exclamations as pale, translucent blue flames tried to reach out to him. Black, ravenous chains wrapped itself tight around the star as it devoured its power, its potential..._

_... It was the ability to rewrite the reality of his being; to express, to write an alternative truth of his self. He could be anyone. He could be anything. He is who he decides who he is. All he is, all he was, all he could be, was within his control. His was the ability to shift his past, rewrite his present, and to overcome his future but with the restraint he had placed on his very soul, it was no more than a shadow of a shadow of a shadow of its intended glory. Faded as it may be, it was enough..._

_... To hide his form from the world, it was more than enough..._

Ghost Walker

This was the ability he had gained from his restrained quirk. It was the ability to fool the world by replacing the information the world perceives with his own desired reality. It was essentially the ability to hack the world and lay an undetectable, imperceptible illusion; a lie no different from the truth.

This persona was essential to hide who he is.

Momo wanted to be a hero. She wanted him to be beside her as she walked down her path. Izuku acknowledged that what he was currently doing was not acceptable in the eyes of the Hero Society and thus if this was found out by said community, he would have to kiss any chances of going down that road with his mistress goodbye.

"Good evening, 1st Lt. Yuri Petrov of Equilibrium! The full moon tonight is quite nice, yes?"

Though the good lieutenant tried to hide it, Izuku could tell that he was unnerved by the casual revelation that he knew who Yuri was. His smile widened a smidgen and a mocking scorn was directed towards the CO.

Most importantly, it displayed his sharpened teeth; though it may even be more appropriate to call it his fangs.

He could detect the subtle shivers that everyone - both the soldiers and the silent hostages - tried to hide. Although quirks had dominated the population of the world, discrimination is still a large part of society.

In a world where people are born with power, those who are stronger will always look down upon those who are weaker. In the same vein, people will always be wary of those who are different. Those who are born with physical mutations - just like his illusionary teeth - will always be segregated by society.

_Humans have always feared what is different_, Izuku thought with some derision.

"You know who I am, but I don't know who you are," the lieutenant spoke with a steely glare. "Care to answer the previous question?"

Izuku tilted his head in feigned puzzlement.

"You would ask a man in a mask who they are? That would only defeat the purpose of a mask, 1st lieutenant. After all, why would a man wear a mask other than to hide who they are?"

Are you stupid, was what the heavy mocking in his voice implied. It was a message that the mercenary fully received if the rapid tick on his brow was anything to go by.

Izuku's amusement never left his being as he watched the CO calm himself. A familiar _thwip_ entered his ears as his oblivious audience remained ignorant of what was truly happening.

The Kumoito he preferred to use was a weapon that emphasized heavy control and technique. Aside from a near-absolute spatial awareness and a talent for planning your actions for at least 20 moves ahead of time, perfect muscular control was needed to wield this weapon skilfully.

... Something that Izuku had in spades.

He saw the 1st Lieutenant calm himself after his SIC placed a hand on his shoulder. Though calm, he could still see the fires of anger in the Commanding Officer's eyes. He paid them no mind even as they began to speak as Izuku concentrated on the task he had set for himself.

_... A star of crystalline blue shined brighter as the songs of gratitude filled his ears. It was a beautiful tune that filled his blackening soul with warmth even as it struggled in the confines of his sealing chains. Its light reached him and branded him with the power he had forged._

_... His body lightened..._

_... His senses, stronger..._

_... He opened his shut eyes. He was ready..._

Perfect Muscular Control

This was the ability he was currently utilizing to bring his skill with his chosen weapon to its fullest potential. His focus was consumed in its entirety as he controlled each individual muscle in his hand to bring about his desired design.

Guns were rapidly pointed at him.

Screams raised around him.

A scarred hand was raised in the air before it was dropped.

"Fire!"

His face was a mask of cool composure as his right index finger rapidly twitched and a mesh barrier blocked all attacks to his person and the hostages around him. It would not do if they were to die because he did not defend them; his mistress would not be pleased with him should that happen.

Sparks bloomed as bullets ricocheted into different directions. A split second was all that was needed as a brief pause to reload became the opening Izuku was waiting for to counter.

A small opening formed on the barrier as he sped through it with all his not-so-inconsiderable speed. His form was a blur to his enemies even as he closed the opening he had used. Muscles worked in synchrony as he squeezed all the power that they could give for greater strength and speed with utmost efficiency.

No unnecessary movements.

No wasted energy.

The greatest results for the least amount of power.

That was the way he had learned to fight. His body had been forged to be the ultimate shield and the strongest spear; he was meant to be the most lethal machine he could be for his Primary. Some may call his way as the Assassin's Path - and he would not deny it - but he had known no other way to fight.

It had been ingrained too deep within his body.

Illusionary waist length hair the color of blood, trailed behind him like the tail of a shooting star as he stepped in front of one of the mercenaries. Clawed hands gripped their stunned face as his hips twisted with great force, sending strength to his back and into his arms.

Dust flew in the air as the mercenary's head cratered the concrete floor.

Lifting his hand, Izuku saw the mercenary knocked out even as blood leaked through his seven orifices.

His left pinky twitched.

A storm of invisible steel responded.

Panicked screams rang out as his enemies were entangled within his web. Wounds appeared on their bodies even as some of them were flung to the air from blunt impacts. He personally moved among his enemies - dispatching them swiftly even as he weaved between bullets shot from their guns.

Each subtle movement of his fingers led to the incapacitation or deaths of his enemies.

Each step brought forth the feelings of terror for the unknown; for this demon did not move like a man, nor animal.

No man could be so illogical in his choices of targets for he would be in one end of the group only to move towards another farther target ignoring one of their comrades that was literally only a foot away from him. No animal would move as unnaturally as this thing would for it moved as if it were possessed; dancing like a puppet would as its strings moved their limbs.

Though unknown to his enemies, they were not wrong in their assumption.

Izuku leapt through the air only to be unnaturally moved to the side by a mysterious force as he dodged an attack from a quirk. His eyes darted to the side only to see a middle aged man aim his hand at him. There was a hole at the center of the palm and he could see a hint of white from its depths.

His eyes looked down and saw an uneven, white, conical object that he assumed was the result of the man's quirk. He took in its details in a split second and determined that it was bone.

He twisted his left wrist and rushed towards his newest target. Bone projectiles were fired towards him but he dodged them in unexpected angles - making his pattern all the more chaotic and unpredictable; the missed shots then turned into harmful friendly fires generating more chaos upon the battlefield as they harmed their comrades.

If one had sharp enough eyes, they would be able to see the slight shimmer that appeared everytime Izuku moved his body. If one focused on him intently, they would be able to see the slight twitches he made with his hands. If one were observant enough, they would be able to determine that his unpredictable movements coincided with every twitch his fingers or his wrists made.

Wires that could shear through steel blocks wrapped harmlessly over his limbs and body. Their touch were the gentle hands of an angel and they moved him as if it were the will of God. Such was the skill he had gained with the use of such an unorthodox weapon that they cut upon his will and strike with the bluntness of a hammer upon his desire.

He was a puppet to his own strings; his own puppet master.

Izuku twitched his right ring finger twice followed by his pointer then his middle and pinky fingers. His torso stiffened and he leaned back as he was propelled with great speed - multiplied by his own natural, quirk enhanced, speed - by his wires in order to maintain his balance.

His movement, which was a blur even before he amplified it with his weapon, became invisible to all but a select few. Those who could see him were those who had more experience in the field as they tracked him not by sight, but by the sound he made as he cut through the air.

Unnoticed, he arrived facing the back of his target as Izuku flattened his left hand into a knife hand with metallic claws glinting under the artificial light.

His limb flashed akin to lightning - and like the element there was nothing he could not pierce.

His knife hand met little resistance before it pierced straight through his target's heart and to the other side of their torso. The man gave out his last gurgle as Izuku pushed him off his arm and died shortly after.

He was a machine; made for decimating his enemies with unequaled speed, strength and ferocity. This was something Izuku acknowledged about himself and so he repeated this course of action again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again...

... Until it was enough. He turned around and saw the results of his attacks.

It was a slaughter.

A massacre.

A nightmare.

Out of the 30 mercenaries - not counting the Commanding Officer and the Second in Command - in the warehouse, sixteen are dead, twelve are incapacitated - injured, but alive - and two were still dodging frantically trying to stay away from their encroaching death.

A twitch of his finger, and his wires danced to a new tempo. The last two mercenaries were left behind as speed picked up and were subsequently cut apart by razor sharp wires.

Izuku looked around to see the aftermath of his attacks. It could only be called a disaster. Everywhere he turned, all he could see were ruins. A simple movement of his fingers caused this.

_He_ caused this.

His mind remained impassive upon the scene of destruction that greeted him. Craters littered the concrete grounds and numerous cuts from his wires were left on the walls and floor and if he looked up, he would also see them up on the ceiling. Bullet holes could be found everywhere he looked except at the center of the warehouse where the hostages remained safe and secure; although they had long since been unconscious from since the fighting began.

As he looked over towards the unconscious hostages, Izuku couldn't help but wonder if this night would perhaps traumatize them. He didn't know and he hardly cared. In his mind, he only protected them since his mistress would be quite upset with him if he did not even try to save them.

A hand weakly gripped his ankle.

He looked down and saw a wounded woman weakly glaring with blurry eyes. Izuku recognized this woman as someone who was beside his latest target and had been wounded deeply by his wires.

"Y-you... D-... d-devil..."

Indifferently, he knelt next to the dying woman and grabbed the wrist of the hand holding him. He easily took it off of him and - with a gentleness not seen since before; he could not bear to disrespect the dead and dying - set it to her side.

"You're wrong,"

His voice was soft as he laid a gentle hand over the dead woman's eyes and closed them; letting her rest her eyes from the world - from the man - that took her life. His right hand drifted towards his chest, resting directly on top of where his heart is. He could feel a slight burning sensation as his fingers traced a shape beneath his clothes; his eyes drowned in reminiscence.

"_'I am the dragon that will devour and usurp the gods... '_ that is what they made me to be."

Izuku's words were whispers beneath his breath as he felt those ghostly fingers touch upon his face. He knew that they were not real, but he could not help but shiver at the phantom sensation.

_Even after all these years... I still can't forget it_, he thought.

No, that was a lie.

He didn't _want _to forget.

He didn't _wish _to forget.

He did not want to forget his memories even if they were horrible and he would never wish it upon his worst enemies. Why would he want to forget them when those memories were a part of who he is. These were the memories that made him who he is and are the proof of his existence; the cornerstone of his identity.

He had already forgotten so many memories from his past, he was unwilling to lose more.

Izuku Midoriya the Butler, would never be who he is without the memories - the experiences - that forged him. He would never know of the happiness he now possessed without those same experiences. In some way, he was even thankful that he had gone through what he had. If he had not, he would never have met all the others in his current life.

"... !"

_His senses screamed._

_A cold grasp lingered on his neck even as he felt phantom claws dig into his back._

His body acted before his mind caught up. Fingers rapidly moved as wires wrapped around his body and added the necessary speed to escape what should have been the unavoidable.

A high-pitched noise.

The sound of breaking glass.

The disintegration of his previous position.

Izuku took this all in within a split second - more than enough to bring himself out of reminiscence and to berate himself for his carelessness.

A tick grew on his right brow for forgetting that he was in a battlefield and that the battle was not over just because a majority of his foes are now dead. He landed on his feet only for his senses to blare once more and quickly sidestepped a long object that currently occupied the space his head was once in.

Muscles contracted simultaneously beneath his skin generating enough force to launch him 20 meters away from the object that he now knew was a bony tail that was extended into an exaggerated length and connected to the SIC who stood behind the 1st Lieutenant.

Various cuts littered their body.

Blood leaked from wounds of different severity.

If Izuku were to be honest, he was amazed they could even stand - let alone move - with how many injuries they had accrued. Their glares, though weary from exhaustion and blood loss, pierced through his physical shell and into his soul.

_Such anger..._

_Such hatred..._

Their eyes and spirit depicted a painting of resolve blended with the colors of their emotions right before him and he couldn't help but find it intriguing.

"Hoh,"

His curiosity was clear as he gazed upon their weary forms.

"To be able to stand in such a state is admirable, but to attack me even after being wounded quite heavily... it is worthy of respect."

"Shut up," 1st Lt. Yuri rasped with a heavy breath as he tried to stem the blood flow from his wounded side.

If eyes could kill_(and in this mutated society filled with superpowers, who knew, really?)_ Izuku would have been turned into dust with how volatile their emotions are. He watched as the CO took a shaky step forward even as his SIC's tail retreated to his back, and take a stance for an attack.

"You killed them."

Yuri's whisper was like the cutting winds of winter made manifest within this tense situation.

"Yes, I did."

Izuku answered with a nonchalant air.

"Why?"

"Why, what? Why did I kill them? Are you that naive then to ask me such a question that you yourself know the answer to?"

He watched as Yuri's face twist into an expression he could not place. He could not call it anger for it was too cold, nor could he call it rage for its fires are hotter than the sun. Hatred was too lukewarm of a word to describe what Yuri must be feeling for him at this moment.

Patiently, he watched as the 1st Lieutenant raised his trembling hand - whether it was from the fury in his veins or if it was from exhaustion, Izuku did not know - and pointed it towards his direction.

Placidly, he watched as a corona of white light surrounded the appendage and warped the air around it even as it assaulted the ears of all that could hear it with its sharp oscillation.

"I will kill you."

It was stated in such a calm utterance that one would wonder if it was a threat at all, but Izuku knew the truth. It was not a threat, it was a promise; one that the 1st Lieutenant would fulfill here and now.

A benevolent smile appeared on his face as he spread his arms to the sides as if he was accepting a hug.

"Come."

**()**

It was mysterious how the sky changes when one is in different countries. The hazy sky of New York differed greatly to the generally clear skies of Japan. This difference was something that Suzuki enjoyed comparing during his business trips outside of his country of birth.

The sun was shining brightly as the backdrop of blue was decorated by sparse white clouds. It looked like it was going to be a sunny day and he could see the busy people of New York enjoying the remaining days of Summer.

Lifting the white mug in his hand, he took a deep sip of the thickly-colored coffee, allowing its bitter taste to seep into his tongue. Feeling a bit of his energy return to him, the Yaoyorozu Patriarch breathed out a deep sigh. He was exhausted.

Although he was not sleepy, his brain was slightly fuzzy; after all, he had practically no sleep since he had arrived in New York.

That was 3 days ago.

Since then, sleep had evaded him and stress plagued his every moment as he had been busy trying to prevent more of his subordinates for falling into a very messy corporate war. And there was no mistaking what was happening, this was a war Suzuki was fighting.

_How troublesome_, he thought.

Leaning back on his leather seat, Suzuki allowed himself to sink into its surface as he closed his eyes and tap his temple slightly. The other occupant of the master bedroom saw this and asked in concern,

"Are you alright, Suzuki-san? You haven't been sleeping."

He smiled warmly at the show of affection and concern.

"I'm fine, my love. I should be asking you that? You have been running around busily everywhere, right?"

"Unlike you, dear," a small playful glare was on Hiyori's face. "I have been able to get a few hours of sleep and rest everyday."

Though they had simultaneously said they were fine, they realized neither of them sounded very energetic at all, giving each other wry smiles. Hiyori approached her husband and sat down on his lap as he set down his coffee mug atop a coffee plate on a small, white table beside his seat. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Hiyori leaned back against his chest and placed her hand upon the arms that wrapped around her waist.

Looking out towards the bustling city through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, they both looked the part of a relaxed couple as they were both dressed in nothing but their bath robes and fuzzy slippers; compliments of the hotel.

It had been a busy couple of days for the both of them. The stresses of leadership, of management, it was all coming on to them. They have borne through the hardships and stresses of leading a global conglomerate in its current crisis for three months with hardly any breaks; the only time they could relax was when they were at home in the company of their daughter.

Even then, it was a rare opportunity.

Nuzzling her head against her husband's chest, Hiyori turned to look up upon his face, a small happy smile on her lips. He smiled as she lay small, butterfly kisses on his cheek and enjoyed the affectionate gesture - rare as it was done during these busy times.

"Come to bed," she said in between sweet kisses. "If you force yourself too much, your mind won't be able to work as it should during crucial moments. Even if you can't sleep, laying your body down and closing your eyes, would make a world of difference."

Suzuki chuckled and allowed himself to be moved by his wife towards their shared bed. A playful shove pushed him over the covers and a curtain of glossy night fell over his eyes as he stared at his wife; a coy smile was on her face as she straddled him.

He reached out and tenderly cupped her cheek and said,

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"... You loved me, that was what you did."

Hiyori laid atop of him and hid her face in the crook of his neck, praying that he did not notice the warmth suffusing her cheeks; unfortunately, she forgot that he was still able to see the tips of her ears gain a pink tinge. A happy flutter in his chest, he was glad that he was still able to fluster his wife so, even after almost 20 years of marriage.

Suzuki did as he was asked and closed his eyes to rest, something that Hiyori noticed as she reached to the nightstand and grabbed a small remote.

It was a small, 4-inch device with only two visible buttons. Pressing the topmost button, their bedroom noticeably darkened as the floor-to-ceiling slowly turned opaque. In this darkened room, the rustling of sheets were heard as the pair of husband and wife settled beneath their blankets. Not counting the previous three months of hectic preparations and counterattacks, the past three days have been nothing but exhausting.

_We're going to have a lazy day today!_, was what Hiyori determinedly thought. Certainly they deserved a little bit of rest?

Although he could not see her through the darkness, Suzuki could still feel the raw determination of his adorable wife and struggled to hold in his chuckles; knowing that she would not appreciate it. Shifting his position, he settled in spooning his wife to his chest.

He heard, more than felt, his wife's breathing slow as she quietly returned to the land of dreams. Still unable to sleep, he stroke her hair and rested his eyes, yet his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He kept thinking of ideas to better his company, thoughts of how to protect his interests and employees, and most importantly, he worried for his family.

He was aware.

He knew that at this moment, his daughter - his Light of Joy - had almost been kidnapped. He had seen the latest news from his home country courtesy of the 2nd Lt. Rito Yamada, who had reported to him late yesterday after he had given his report on the investigation he had been tasked with. Suzuki still felt his chest tighten with worry over the memory of watching the news anchor report on the incident as his mind looped over the worst case scenarios.

It was only when Momo's name didn't come up in the list of missing guests did the knot in his chest loosen.

_She is safe_, he reminded himself once more.

She is safe.

She is safe.

This was the mantra he repeated in his head as quelled the rising worry he was feeling. There was nothing wrong and everything was alright; his daughter's safety was assured. The knowledge that someone strong and competent was protecting his most precious treasure was enough to assure him. Suzuki knew that Izuku would protect Momo with his life.

He leaned down and pressed his lips upon a sleeping Hiyori's forehead, causing her to snuggle deeper in his embrace. He loved his family. There was no truer thing in the world than that. Should something happen to either his wife or daughter, he would burn the world in recompense.

Luckily, there was no need to do so.

Deliberately, he turned his mind away from this line of thought; knowing that his worries will continue to rise endlessly. Best to not think about it tonight, he decided. Thoughts turned towards the perpetrator of this most recent corporate war.

HeavyArms Industries.

He had heard of them before; brows scrunched as he thought about the small EAD parts manufacturer. Although they were a small company, they were extremely profitable as they are one of the most reliable manufacturers of custom EAD parts necessary for many Heroe's support equipment. He had heard and known them to be a personable entity that does its best for its clients without compromising the company's interests and the client's. He had even thought of partnering with them for some projects before, but...

Inwardly - as to not disturb his wife's slumber with his displeasure - his face twisted in distaste. Bribery, blackmail, sabotage, kidnappings, extortion, even murder; these were all highlighted within the 2nd lieutenants reports and investigations.

_Truly, the purest face hides the darkest thoughts_, he thought. BlackWatch's intelligence officer was thorough in his investigations and had uncovered a lot of secrets that the seemingly virtuous facade had left in the dark. Now, that darkness will be brought into the light.

Suzuki was never one to suffer attacks upon his person or his interests - much less to that of his family. HeavyArms wanted the secrets to his creation, but he will never surrender such dangerous knowledge. He knew the dangers the world would face should knowledge about the creation process of Vibranium come out and land into the wrong hands.

A shiver lightly touched upon his body, earning a frown on his lovely Hiyori's lips, something that he immediately calmed with iron will as he comforted his wife into sweeter dreams. His body calm, he still could not bury the fear that wormed into his heart. He had not made the claim that Vibranium was the most versatile material in the world lightly. He knew the metal more than he knew himself and thus he knew what it could be applied in, what it could do. It was supernatural in a way that could not be explained; as if it were something that was not meant for mortal hands, and yet he had brought it here into this world all to fulfill a childish fantasy.

To its creator, it was a miracle given form - one that will advance humanity should they be given a chance and careful guidance. And yet, it could also be the opposite of what it could be. It would be the nightmare to its own miracle, the despair to its own hope. If they ever discover Vibranium's most destructive capabilities...

He was afraid it would be humanity's destruction.

A hand touched the side of his face and broke him from his thoughts. His lids parted showing dilated pupils within a pool of gold as he looked down and drowned within the calm darkness of his wife's eyes. He calmed down; it was unknown to him when he had begun to hyperventilate nor when his heart began to beat so fast.

"Are you alright now?" his wife asked as she continued to caress his face in calming strokes. "You were having a panic attack and I could feel your fear. What is happening, dear?"

Her hands were glowing in a kaleidoscopic light as he took a deep breath and heaved a great sigh. His arms tightened around her as he took her closer to his chest. He buried his nose into her hair and took in her scent; feeling the comfort spread throughout his body.

"Nothing," he murmured into her hair, basking in the comfort her mere presence gave him. This was one of the reasons why he loved her so much. Her merely existing, was enough to give him his own small share of happiness. "It was nothing."

Her head moved and she looked up to him and glared straight into his eyes. He found the sight adorable as his wife never really had a scary bone in her body, but the emotions of hurt and anger reflected in her obsidian pools prevented him from going through that thought.

"Why are you lying to me?"

"Hiyori... " widened eyes looked into hers as the hurt grew more.

Her hand, glowing in a multitude of colors, glowed brighter as she moved it from his cheek to the center of his chest. Her touch was searing in its intensity and electrifying to his senses. He felt his heart beat harder beneath bone and muscle and he wasn't sure that it was not visible from outside with how hard it tried to escape his chest.

"I can feel your fear; the uneasiness in your chest and the worry that permeates your every breath," she whispered with her eyes closed as if in a trance. " I can feel your anger. I can feel the burning hatred, the desire to avenge the fallen and to defend what you considered yours. I can _feel you_, Suzuki-san, so why are you lying to me?"

She opened her eyes and the hurt in them was heartbreaking as was her sincerity. There were many mistakes Suzuki had done in his life, but to him, those unshed tears in his wife's eyes was the greatest crime he had ever committed.

Empathy.

The larger the area of bare skin she touched, the more detailed was her grasp on the emotions she could read off another person. By placing her hand above the heart and right at the center of another person's chest, rather than reading another's emotions it borders on the ability to read their thoughts instead. This was the ability that his wife wielded; and it was one that she was currently using on him, taking in his emotions and processing them as if they were her own.

"Do you not trust me?"

He could hear the sheer heartbreak within her voice though it remained calm. Throat freezing, eyes widening, he could not move fast enough as he enveloped his wife in his arms; his heart tearing into pieces as he heard her light sobs. _That's not it! I trust you with everything I have!_, he wanted to say but his frozen throat could not voice it out.

"Why do not let me help you?" her tears spilled on to his bare chest; the robe long pulled open by her hands. She looked into his eyes - red and watery - portraying a sense of helplessness that he had never seen in his Hiyori before.

"I am your wife, am I not?"

_You are!_, he wanted to scream. He will never allow her to doubt what she means to him. Hiyori Futaba is Hiyori Yaoyorozu, wife of Suzuki Yaoyorozu. That is a fact that is set in stone - no, it was carved into the Earth's core. _I love you!_, he tightened his embrace, trying to let her know of this fact through his body.

"Then why do you not let me bear your burdens with you?" she asked, her tears now dry.

"Suzuki-san, I have assisted you with your endeavors; all of them. I have been with you from when you started your company until now and with every crisis that we experience. I am your wife Suzuki-san, for better or worse in sickness or in health; I am here to bear your burdens with you. Why won't you let me hear of your worries?"

_It's because I am scared!_, raised in humility, Suzuki still had a modicum of pride. It was this pride that was not letting him voice out his reasons. It was pride in his accomplishments, pride in his stalwart drive to succeed; he had remained on his road to success, never wavering, never faltering and so, to admit that he feared the reason of his successes... it was shameful.

Even the greatest of saints had their own flaws.

He couldn't speak, and yet he never needed to. Hiyori's glowing hand had never left his chest. His emotions flowed into her as his thoughts became her's. She could see into his reasons, the deepest desires and emotions of his heart. She saw his predicament and was saddened that he could not tell her himself. Her hand moved from his chest and on to his face once more; brushing away the creases on his brow as she affectionately nuzzled her nose to his chin.

"I am your wife, Suzuki-san," her tone was exasperated as she repeated what should have been obvious to her husband. "I am your wife. I am the one person who will not judge you for your troubles. I am your shoulder to cry on, your pillar to lean on. I am your other half, the one to share your burdens and the first one to aid you - I am your wife, Suzuki-san."

The soft look in her eyes crumbled any defenses he may have had as he let her in to his heart. He watched as a smile appeared on her lovely face, knowing that he had accepted her words.

"I've been an idiot, haven't I?" he asked as he laid his own hand on the one on his cheek.

She giggled and raised her other hand to her eyes and she said as she held them up with a small space between her forefinger and thumb, "Just a little bit."

Suzuki opened his mouth - about to tell his worries - when a thin, index finger laid itself atop his lightly parted lips. He looked at the perpetrator and was greeted with a happy, yet red-eyed, smile.

"Tonight, we will need to rest. _We_ will talk about this tomorrow and _we_ will solve it, okay dear?"

Amused, he lightly nodded at his wife before pulling her back into his chest and rested his chin atop her head. They relaxed within the warm confines of their blankets and soft mattress while he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Three o'clock in the afternoon; the numbers blinked lazily in its digital display.

"Together?" he asked into her hair.

He felt her smile as she went deeper into his embrace, "Together." As always, his wife was right.

**()**

Intuition screamed as another invisible death headed for him. High-pitched noises reverberated within his ears as he rushed forward and engaged the Tail-Quirk user who met his fist with their own. Izuku ignored the way concrete and glass shards turned to dust behind him as fists were exchanged and kicks were returned. A flattened hand flashed towards his torso, aimed straight at his solar plexus and a menacing tail aimed at his heart from behind; his left pinky twitched.

"W-what the - !?"

He heard the SIC's surprised exclamation yet he put no mind nor attention to it. Wires that could shear through steel harmlessly wrapped around the flashing limbs, even as it blocked another strike by a tail aimed at his kidneys. Another twitch of his finger and his opponent was pulled to the side with terrifying force and was thrown to the only wall in the warehouse left unmarred. It cracked and rubble and dust flew into the air.

Death nipped at his heels and Izuku jumped to the side just as a visible distortion passed by him in a dull roar; shattering all in its path. He spun to his left deflecting a kick, that had he been any other person, it may have just knocked him flat on his back. He waved his hand and cutting steel followed its path forcing his current foe to disengage.

"Tch. Those wires are getting annoying."

Yuri muttered underneath his breath as he took in precious air through his mouth. He rushed towards his opponent with glowing hands and swiped them towards Izuku. Hands that he knew could turn concrete into dust reached for his head, but he ducked below their grasping digits even as his ears were assaulted with high-pitched noises that turned his vision blurry.

He ignored the way his vision swayed as his left hand snapped towards his foe's outstretched right arm and pushed it upwards. Fingers clenched on the wrist tightly causing Yuri to flinch as Izuku stepped inwards to his side. The earth was crushed beneath his feet with Perfect Muscular Control aiding him in his attack as all his muscles worked in perfect synchrony as they transferred the earth's energy into his body. His right arm was a flash of lightning as his elbow crushed into Yuri's sternum with unyielding force; transferring the collective energy generated by his body and that of the earth, "Six Grand Opening - Elbow Upthrust."

Eyes bulged and veins popped as Yuri silently screamed. He could feel the excruciating pain from the blow permeate his entirety as his mind blanked and his vision turned white. He felt his heart stopped beating as tiny ruptures erupted beneath his skin; turning it into a patchwork of blue and black. He hung on to Izuku's elbow in what seemed to be eternity before reality asserted itself and he was blasted back for a considerable distance, opposite his subordinate, in deep agony.

Wires invisible to the naked eye formed a new shape under Izuku's masterful control as they weaved into the ceiling, walls and floor and wrapped around his arms. His arms tensed and his wires stretched as if they were rubber bands. His eyes locked with those of Yuri's - pained black, meeting placid emerald. Tensed muscles relaxed and, like a shooting star, he sped towards his opponent.

_These are some pretty good wires. I wonder if Yaoyorozu-dono would be willing to make me a few more spools?_, he was calm if his idle thought had been anything to go by. His opponent reacted with impressive speed - even as injured as he was - and thus was able to block Izuku's punch with his forearms. He saw his opponent grimace - Izuku then knew that he had broken his foe's arms - before he was blasted back by a wall of force unseen to the naked eye or to those who were not equipped to see it.

He stifled an irritated groan within his throat as he did not want to display weakness to his enemies. Hands stretched out to his sides as he heard the spools of wire on the back of his gloved hands spin under mechanized help, shooting forth a new length of wire that he needed. Wires wrapped around his body - he intended to stabilize himself in mid-air - only for his concentration to be shattered by loud cracks.

Time slowed down.

His eyes widened as his senses heightened, reflexes rose, his heart pounding in his chest like a stampede of wildebeest as dopamine and adrenaline flooded the pathways of his life-liquid. Izuku's perception of time slowed, eyes wide as he watched six bullets pave their paths towards his vulnerable flesh.

His vision traced their paths and saw their origin; the foe he had knocked to a wall, was now kneeling on the ruined floor and was aiming a gun at him. _Where did he get that_, he asked himself. His eyes took in the determined visage on an evilly grinning face, he absorbed into his mind the determination - the victory - in his eyes; so sure that it was his win. That confidence, that surety, that absolute belief that fate had favored them and had set this conclusion into stone...

... He wanted to **SHATTER **them.

_... The anger of a bursting star had branded itself into his soul. How dare they contemplate hurting its master? How dare they desire his death? How dare they dream of his defeat!? It will show them! It will show them all, its master was the one who ruled everything under the heavens and above the earth!..._

_... Light filled his __**World-that-did-not-exist**__ and power shaped by the will of a single charge and the contemplations of man formed under unseen hands. Light darkened and mist enveloped. It was a star ethereal, bewitching, and mysterious in its form. It was not the blinding lights of the other charges beside it, no, this was not the power of domination nor was it the surge of supremacy. No, this was the power to make its master untouchable by all those unworthy of his magnificence - his divinity. A shadow of a shadow of a shadow it might become, it was surely enough..._

_... It was more than enough..._

His heart beat loud within his ears, pulses fast with the rush of blood as the familiar sensation of power filled his being. Time resumed its own pace as everything accelerated within his eyes. _Danger, danger, danger, danger,_ his own instincts blared loudly within his mind, willing him to move from the path of danger yet he knew... he knew that if he moved, survivability would drop to zero percent!

Muscles locked up, breathing stopped, heart stopping a beat; he ignored his instincts to move and pinned such impulses down with a steel will. Animalistic desire and instincts warred with machine-like logic. Ingrained desire for survivability conflicted with assured declaration of logic but in the end, logic had won.

One to the head, two to the heart, one to the liver, two to the kidneys, had he been any other person, most would find this impossible to avoid and death would surely have him in its hands. No, anyone else in his position would have given up hope and resigned themselves to their end... to death. But no, not today - death will not have his soul on this day. From the corner of his eyes he saw the former Commanding Officer stand complacent, sure that this was his end. The fool did not even bother preparing an attack in case this fails.

_So overconfident, _he thought with a sardonic smile in his head. _Where do they get such surety? I would love breaking that illusion of theirs._ His vision locked towards his foe, even until the end, the calm, mocking smile on his lips never moved. He continued to look at his enemy, then, his sight went dark.

**()**

Yuri was impassive as bullets tore through his previous opponent; eyes never even returning to the red-haired demon he had fought as he approached his Second in Command. Gingerly, he moved towards his subordinate while taking care not to jostle his left arm - or his upper torso, really - too much. Although brief, the exchange with their opponent had been troublesome. A grimace briefly appeared on his face as he remembered the mobility employed by that menace and their capabilities in matching him.

"Fucking wires," he grumbled beneath his breath before his lungs froze in his chest as pain exploded from deep within. He stuttered in his steps and took deep breaths; waiting for the pain to subside. "Damn it."

His chest throbbed with another exclamation. He could feel every breath he took as if they were blades that entered his lungs. His legs shook from the pain that he experienced in the effort of keeping himself alive. Looking towards where that red demon had laid dead, his eyes darkening with malicious intentions and wished that he had been alive so that he could inflict a more painful death towards this person. Alas the demon was dead, the enemy defeated and laid on his feet! No one could survive having bullets shot in their head, heart, liver and kidneys.

_Not without a defensive or a high-speed regenerative quirk anyway_, he thought. From what he saw, their enemy had a Speed Enhancement quirk based on the feats of extreme speed he had seen; disappearing from sight and blurring in motion, even to the eyes of those like him whose body and reactions were more advanced in comparison to the quirkless population and those gifted with weaker quirks. Even when he didn't use those infernal wires, his enemy was fast enough to evade him and surpass his reaction speed.

Slowly, Yuri staggered on his feet, swaying a little as he moved onwards towards his kneeling subordinate. It had taken him some time but he had reached him. He inspected his form and saw that he was fine even if he was banged up. Bruises and cuts littered his body, bleeding in different areas, but Alek looked okay. He would heal fine should he be given a little time to rest unlike how he was currently. Looking down at himself, he could only lament that he would have to spend quite a lot of time at the PMC hospital. He lightly shivered at the thought of spending an extended period of time inside those white walls.

_I might go crazy from all the white_, he considered.

Alek tiredly turned his head towards his superior officer after hearing him approach and had to double take after seeing his current condition. His shirt was in tatters and was more fitting to call it a rag as various bruises littered his body as if he had spilled black and blue ink on himself. He could see the unevenness in Yuri's arms and the slight trembling of his fingers indicating that they had been broken and that his CO was enduring their pain. Seeing his chest, he had struggled to keep his bile in his throat.

_It was a mess._

No, calling it a mess was a severe understatement. _How is he still standing or alive for that matter!?_, was his frantic thought as he paled in terror. Yuri's chest caved inwards with multiple bumps beneath the skin telling him that his entire sternum had been broken. Alek paled in terror as in the first time in his life, he was thankful for a Quirked's enhanced biology for otherwise his CO was a dead man as he said, "You look like shit, sir."

"I feel like shit too," Yuri lightly laughed - not wishing to aggravate his already severe wounds - at his subordinates understated words. A silence stretched between them, a product of finally realizing that they were out of the fire and the relief in the reality that they had survived and won against a powerful opponent.

He sighed.

"Is it over?" he mumbled with a breathy tone. Alek slumped in his position as his muscles all but practically collapsed into themselves as if unable to believe that he had gone through that battle alive; battered, but alive. He felt his CO delicately lower himself on to the floor as he moved his tail on his lap.

He was exhausted.

_They_ were exhausted.

They both wanted to collapse right where they are but both knew that this was not the place to relax and recoup their lost strength. Heroes were still on their tails as were the police, and seeing as this place had just been the site of a large commotion, they would figure out that they were here soon. Turning towards their intended hostages, all of whom are still unconscious, Yuri wanted to just see if his quirk could disintegrate them as he had never done it on a living being before but decided that doing so would paint an even larger target at their backs; not worth the trouble, at all.

"Hey Lieutenant," Alek called out to him. His tone was informal as were his words - he was far too laden with bone-deep exhaustion to maintain his usually formal and polite demeanor. "What made you think that taking this mission was a good idea again?"

His response was as deadpan as his face, "Stupidity and insufficient impulse control."

Alek chuckled at his dry response. Truly, there were no words that could fit the situation better. He knew that there were better units that could have taken this job with half the time his could have taken with an even better result. He had previously mentioned that his platoon was not the cloak and dagger type - they were the ride-with-the-thunder-guns-blazing-lunatics. They were not equipped with the skill or resources for such delicate operations, he knew that and yet, he was still goaded into accepting this mission.

Gazing out into the open space before him, he took in the blood-covered floors, the torn wall, the crumbling ceiling, he took in the dead bodies of his subordinates. This was the result of his stupidity - of his rash decision. His heart grew heavy as the consequences of his actions had finally settled in and sadness came to the forefront of his mind. Anger came too, for all the lives lost needlessly and for the one who reaped those lives.

He sighed heavily and tried to stand from his seat with Alek supporting him, "There is no need to linger here any longer. We need to get away before the local heroes arrive." His subordinate nodded at his side as he tried to aid the CO.

_The world screamed in alarm as its gentle touch, like that of his lover, heralded the release of his soul._

**MOVE!**

His instincts forced him to move but his heavily injured body could not accept the sudden movement as pain assaulted him with twice the intensity he had tried to ignore. A short scream of agony came out of his mouth. His knees buckled in pain and he fell, yet an invisible force held him and Alek up. He was unable to turn his head nor was he able to move any part of his body. His subordinate was in the same predicament and they were fully bound by whatever held them. He tried to move his arm only for a cut to appear on his damaged skin. Blood dripped from the deep but non-life threatening wound.

"Guh...!"

Alek grunted in discomfort as the force on his neck tightened when he tried to move his tail. Pain burst from the small of his back as a cut appeared on the base of his tail. He tried to struggle but he could not release himself from his binds. His eyes twisted in his head as he scowled. Black and white eyes flickered to and fro, looking for anything that might clue him in what may be restraining him. A slight, silver sheen appeared in the corner of his vision and as he focused on what it was, dread settled in his stomach. It was thin, incredibly so, yet it did not give off the feeling of being fragile rather it had the atmosphere of something that would cut you with the lightest touch.

"No...," he whispered as lead weighed in his chest making it hard to breathe. Terror swam within his eyes as he gazed on what should have been a dead man.

_Why..._

A hand was raised and settled on the back of their neck. A quick twist, and a loud **Crack! **echoed within the silent warehouse. Red hair, like burning fire, shifted in response to the sudden movement.

_Why, won't you stay dead?!_

Eyes of burnished gold glimmered in sadistic amusement, finding the horror in their faces to his satisfaction. Lips parted in a toothy smile, displaying his fangs for all to see; it resembled the expressions predators wear in fron of weakened prey.

"Hmhmhm," it chuckled beneath its breath. "I think, I know how it works now."

Yuri snapped from his horror induced stupefication at those words; a question on the tip of his tongue but he could not voice them for his throat was still frozen from shock. How? How was he still alive? No one should have survived getting shot to his vitals but here he was, this demon, hale and hearty like nothing had ever happened. He did not have a High-Speed Regeneration Quirk, so how did he rise from the dead!?

"You want to know how I'm still alive, yes?" he asked after seeing the question burning in their eyes. "You both made a grave mistake. You did not check if I was really dead. That should have been the first thing you did after shooting me."

"How... " was Yuri's horrified whisper. Confusion, hatred, terror, and slight bits of awe colored his tone as he looked at the demon that was slain. "How did you survive... ? Nobody could have survived that. Nobody couLD HAVE SURVIVED GETTING SHOT IN THE HEAD! SO HOW!? YOU DIDN'T POSSESS A REGENERATION QUIRK SO HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! TELL ME-GHK!?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Careful there 1st Lt. Yuri Petrov. You shouldn't be so hysterical, you will worsen your wounds, you know?"

There was remorseless grin on its face as it mocked him. Yuri had aggravated his wounded chest with his hysterical shouts causing the fragments of bone within to damage his organs more which led to the copious amounts of blood he had expelled. Izuku was indifferent in regards to the damage his prey had caused to himself. All that was in his mind was the thought of his newest ability granted onto him by his quirk.

"By the way, allow me to correct you on your erroneous statement," he waved his hands in a grand gesture, partly in theatrics and partly in intimidation, causing the numerous wires he controlled to tighten themselves painfully on their captives making them grunt in discomfort.

Golden eyes shined eerily under the moonlight seeping from the broken roof and ceiling. Orbs that once held such intense emotions even if they were sadistic amusement and humour, blanked; their shine gone, leaving only a hollow imitation of the windows to the soul as if a mask had finally been discarded. They were cold, so cold, that Alek felt his heart freeze within his chest. The smile that had once been thought to be devilishly handsome upon his masked face appeared fragile...

It was dangerous...

It was _Broken_.

Like staring into a reflection in a shattered mirror, it was still the same smile but it had been fractured and flaws had never been more evident than before. With blank eyes and broken smile, this red demon had never looked inhuman than now. Lips stretched widely and empty eyes crinkled in a parody of emotion as he opened his mouth and spoke,

_"Since when were you under the impression that I was not capable of regeneration?"_

The Golden Apple of Idunn

This was what he had decided to name his newest ability. It was named after the magical golden apples tended by the Norse Goddess Idunn that were able to grant the Gods their eternal youth and immortality. Although he had given this ability such a lofty name, it did not share anything with the mythical golden apples aside from their title. His new ability was not so miraculous as such that it had granted him immortality, not even High-Speed Regeneration that could only be found in comic books, rather, this ability was something that could only be called as a Personal Time Reversal. This new ability reversed time as it was experienced by his body; rewinding it to the past before it had suffered the injuries that it had and thus erasing the 'past ' and presenting a new 'future'.

_Planeswalker, Ghost Walker and before that Frame, Perfect Control, and now The Golden Apple of Idunn. Four charges out of Five - it seems that I have spent my charges more tonight than I have for the past few months_, he thought. _How troublesome. Have I grown soft in my training?_

Yuri's body glowed white and the machine on his back generated a high-pitched noise. He glared fiercely at the empty demon before him as he built up the power of his quirk as high as he could. Even if he was tied up, as long as a single finger was free, he would be able to use his quirk. As the noise built up in a quick crescendo - "Haven't I said it before? I had already figured it out." - he fired the strongest blast he had made till date.

A loud shattering sound resounded and a shockwave comparable to explosions made by bombs created rubble out of any remaining decent sized pieces of cement. Dust blew into the air in great clouds covering everything in sight, and he panted in severe exhaustion ignoring the whining of machinery and the sparks arcing from the mechanical pack on his back.

"That should be enough... right?" he murmured beneath his breath. He could not feel anything on his skin so that should mean that the wires binding him had finally loosened? Feeling nothing, a smile broke out on his face as he turned towards his only remaining subordinate. He opened his mouth and said -

"That was quite powerful. I would have been in trouble if, I had previously said, I had not figured out how it works already," a voice called out from beyond the great billowing clouds of dust. A masculine silhouette appeared from beyond with swaying waist-length hair.

Pain erupted in Yuri's being as he choked, unable to breathe from the constriction of his throat. He could hear gagging noises from beside him and he could only guess that Alek must have been going through the same thing as him. The dust finally cleared and his eyes - wide from the constricting vice upon his neck - widened further in disbelief. His heart shattered in his chest as he took in the image before him. _H-how... how is he undamaged from all that power?!_

Empty eyes glinted with a slight amusement as he took in the disbelief that was directed at him, "If you could not understand what I mean, then I will be more direct. I had already figured out how your Quirk works."

Shocked was an understatement of what he felt as he continued to choke while looking at the monster before him who stood in front of now conscious hostages.

"Your Quirk is the manipulation of Moderate Vibrations," Izuku continued. "From what I had been able to gather from our brief bout, you are able to absorb oscillations into your body and use the stored vibrations as a form of attack. That thing on your back, it is an amplifier, is it not? I could gather that it is meant to be an EAD that enhances your ability to attack and absorb Vibrations; and what is sound other than the vibrations in the air?"

Yuri was now beyond shock and was currently in a daze. The corners of his vision darkened and his lungs begged him for fresh air, but he knew that it was impossible. He had lost.

"The wires on your body, they not only serve the purpose of restraining you, but with the way I weaved them, they are able to absorb your output vibrations and redirect them somewhere else - say, the ground perhaps?"

His body was feeling sluggish. His mind was faint. The blood in his body was slow; he was feeling cold. His ears could no longer hear things properly, but he could still hear his killer's next words clearly,

"You were a good opponent and decently powerful. You also seem to be a decent person and I would have loved to be your acquaintance, but I am afraid that this would simply be a passing thought; an unreal fantasy. After all, you had committed the greatest sin any human could have made," his vision was black and his consciousness had been fading, yet he felt colder than even when the hand of death took hold on his soul.

**"You dared to touch my mistress. You dared contemplate harming her. Now, fall. Fall into the darkness of never-ending sleep. Fall into the void of your dreams. Lament your failures and regret your sins. Pray for the Gods to forgive you for I never will. Pray that the Gods have mercy on your soul for I never will. Fall, fall to the darkness beyond life. I wish you a good trip to eternal suffering."**

This were the last words that Yuri heard as darkness claimed his soul; Alek, his subordinate, having fallen long before him. He kicked and screamed, he cursed and cursed yet Death's hold on him never let go.

3:47 AM on the last days of summer, 1st Lt. Yuri Petrov of Equilibrium died with terror forever etched on his face as he choked to death.

**()**

It was only 30 minutes later that the Heroes arrived followed by the police. What greeted them was a scene that would be etched into their minds as one of utmost horror. Blood covered every surface and bodies littered everywhere the eye could see. It was a scene of macabre art and a realization of numerous nightmares with two hanged people as the centerpiece of these perverted grounds. The only spot free of blood had been filled with shivering and traumatised hostages - the missing guests from the annual Charity Ball.

Memories of this night will forever be etched into the minds of each and every person who had stepped into that ruined structure. As the traumatised victims were questioned on what had happened, only one thing would ever pass their lips before fainting out of sheer terror...

Aka-oni...

Satan...

Lucifer...

Many appellations passed their lips, but they were all clear on one thing:

_Beware, the Demon of Red with Eyes of Gold roam to pass judgement upon all sinners. God has forsaken his people and has let his Judge and Executioner walk among us all, Beware. Beware the Demon of Red with Eyes of Gold!_

**(-)**

AN: I am disappointed with this chapter. I tried to revise this so many times and this is what came out. I tried to do better with the fight scenes, that I rewrote them for so many times but, well, as you can see, this is the result.

I am very disappointed.

This is my first fight scene I have ever tried to write so please go easy on me. Leave your favorites, follows and reviews on the comment section below. Peace.


	7. Chapter 6

**Hero Schools are -**

Nationally acclaimed high schools established for the purpose of nurturing "Heroes", licensed users of Mutations - more commonly called as "Quirks". In the last four centuries since the appearance of Superpowers, countless facilities - both privately funded and government owned - dedicated to the education of responsibility to the populace and the creation of heroes with superb utilization of Quirks have appeared all over the world.

In Japan, although numerous hero schools have been established, four names reverberate within the hearts of all hero hopefuls.

**U.A. Academy**: Musutafu (Kanto, Tokyo).

**Shiketsu Academy**: Nishinomiya (Kinki, Hyogo).

**Ketsubutsu Academy**: Kanazawa (Hokuriku, Ishikawa).

**Seiai Academy for Girls**: Sendai (Tohoku, Miyagi).

Among these prestigious establishments, U.A. and Shiketsu have a fixed quota of eighty students divided into their own Heroics Course and Support Course with only three hundred seats available for the General Course - not counting the numerous other courses provided by the school according to the Regular Education Charter. The difference between the Hero and Support Courses and General Course is in the number of instructors as most teachers available for the Hero and Support Course are either retired or active Pro-Heroes.

While Ketsubutsu Academy and Seiai Academy have a fixed quota of two hundred students with no divided courses and are provided with equal amount of instructors, the level of teachers are generally a notch lower than that of the top two schools as none of them are Pro-Heroes.

Even though various schools follow the curriculum created by the National University of Heroics and the National Internal Security Bureau, there are also schools that have their own specializations. For example, Shiketsu Academy places a heavy emphasis in practical, battle-oriented education for its Hero and General course, and, in contrast, A Certain High School in Hamamatsu (Tokai, Shizuoka), places emphasis in highly complex manufacturing and theorization which are valuable in areas of EAD Engineering and Theoretical Science and Technology.

Aside from this, there are schools that specialize in operations in particular environments. An Academy in Kochi (Shikoku, Kochi) teaches, separate from the normal curriculum, operations and survival above water on in the sea, while the High School in Otaru (Hokkaido) integrates practical outdoor lessons in regions of extreme cold or mountainous regions where the living environments are extreme.

**()**

Superpowers.

Mutations.

Quirks.

Whatever one may want to call them, they are a product of neither Legends nor Fairy Tales, instead, they are facts of a reality that has long since become unknown to most people.

The first verifiable and recorded event of Quirk Manifestation was on the night of June 30th, year AD 2016. The incident was recorded in a hospital in the city of Qingqing, China where a newborn baby began to emanate a soft bio-luminescent light 13 minutes after their birth. This became the first verifiable use of what is now modernly called a Quirk. After that incident, many people around the world began to manifest their own Superpowers with the First-Generation Mutations largely appearing in children and young adults in the ages of four to thirteen years old.

Initially, after the First Manifestation, these special abilities were largely called "Mutations"; an ability present in every person as a result of purely inherent, sudden mutation among humanity as a result of a yet unknown process of awakening. That was an erroneous notion.

Through the thorough research and study in Genetics and Human Biology, by influential Eastern and Western Nations, the appearance of these "Mutations" have been gradually explained to the public. It became possible to understand "Mutations".

It was Evolution.

Constant changes in the environment of the planet due to Global Warming of that era had triggered a then-to unknown and hidden genome within the DNA of most creatures that inhabited the planet. The first of its kind, an unknown that had remained hidden within the Human Template, signifying a change of times - a new era.

Alpha-Plus: _The First of Many More Mysteries Beyond the Idea of "Human"._

This was the name given by an Anonymous Researcher to indicate the existence of the First of Many. With the manifestation of numerous abilities too fantastic to be thought of in reality, conflict - that which is the nature of humanity - reared its head as countries, divided as they were, began a race on who can nurture the best of its citizens' Supernatural Abilities.

By the end of the 21st Century - in the year 2095 - the world had began to adapt to the sudden shift of the era and various laws had been implemented to both protect and prosecute those who had once been beyond the reach of law. It was also in this year that the various acts of Vigilantism in response to Quirked Crimes had become institutionalized and sponsored by the government; laying the bricks that would soon become the foundation for the modern-day heroics career.

U.A. Academy is affiliated with the National University of Heroics and the National Internal Security Bureau. It is an upper-level heroic institution known globally to produce the best graduates - whether they were in the Heroics Course, the Support Course, or the General Course - their graduates are known to proceed to become the top of their fields. Rivaled only by the Rheinmetall Institute in Germany, Xavier's School for the Gifted in the United States of North America, and SEELE in Israel, it is a school for the elite that only accepts and pursues excellence.

With regard in Quirked education, although sixty percent of the world possess quirks, there is no official stance in providing an equal education. This country does not have the luxury to do so. Furthermore, childish, idealistic debates revolving around the clear disparity that exists between the capable and incapable would not be tolerated; even in this idealistic society of Heroes and Villains.

Thoroughly talent-driven.

Harshly competence-oriented.

That is the world of Heroics.

In this school of the elite where only the best are accepted, right at the start of enrollment, the high-achievers and those with talent are immediately separated from mediocrity. Even if two individuals are freshmen, they are not necessarily equal - even if they were to possess the closest of bonds. This...

... is a dog-eat-dog world.

**()**

_Darkness._

_All beings feared the dark. Whether they be man or beast, all creatures that walk upon the earth instinctively avoid the dark - but not him. Not anymore._

_He had long since grown used to it. The absolute darkness that covered his form had become as familiar to him as his own hands were. The incessant chill that pervaded this room he was kept in had become a comfort amidst the daily pains he had endured._

_One could even say that he loved being in the dark. He was familiar with it._

_His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath; rattling the chains that kept him from moving and he felt them dig into his young chest. His brow twitched in annoyance. He did not know how long he was kept in this empty room. He had long since lost count of the days, hours, or months - just as he had long forgotten many more things. But, he could still remember why he was chained on this seat within this dark, cold room._

_"Huhuhu... "_

_Rattling chains echoed eerily around him as he laughed a chilling laugh. Unseen, a vicious smile appeared on his lips beneath his reinforced leather mask._

_He could remember the rage pumping beneath his skin. He could remember power flowing in his veins. He could remember his small fists meeting their larger bodies and sending them flying as they were unable to resist the force his small build could employ. He could remember the sounds of bones breaking, muscles tearing, blood spilling... he remembered breaking them apart._

_It was glorious._

_They had thought they could control him. They had thought they could abuse him. They had thought that he would take it without complaint. _This resentment in my heart, allow me to return it to you all a hundred-fold!_, his eyes burned with satisfaction as he remembered their faces and expressions._

_All beings feared the dark. Whether they be man or beast, all creatures that walk upon the earth instinctively avoid the dark - but not him. Never him._

_The darkness was his home. It was his comfort - the one place where he was safe, where he could relax and truly rest. One could even say that the darkness is his safety blanket, protecting him from the world outside._

_No..._

... Frightened eyes gazed into his as he clutched on to his enemies unconscious forms. Upturned and scarred earth laid beneath him and his enemies as ghastly bluish-black flames surrounded them. Twisting shadows danced with the rhythm of the flames, moving under the beat of the energy inherently linked to life. They took a step back - his smile, growing vicious at the weakness they showed - and then, he pounced...

... Blood flew into the air...

... The overpowering scent of fear lingered in the air and he grew drunk - intoxicated with his strength...

... "Do you fear the dark?" his hand wrapped around the neck of the one who had tormented him the most. He relished in the choking sounds he made as his airways were being slowly crushed...

... He laid on the ground, subdued, as his blood leaked through the numerous wounds he had accrued. His vision was fuzzy; his young body was not durable enough to endure such a massive loss of life bearing liquid. His deaf ears could hear the soft steps of feet approaching him. His consciousness was fading. It was getting harder to think. As darkness grew at the edges of his vision, he saw a pair of high quality leather dress shoes stop before his fallen form...

_No, that was wrong. The darkness kept the _World_ safe from _Him_._

_They feared him. Those outside of this room - of this prison - feared him deeply. They feared his strength as they were unable to comprehend the power he wielded. They feared the prowess of his mind for with a single mistake, a slight hesitation in their movements, it would be the signal of their defeat as he would strike with no hesitation; his mind laying out all the paths to victory before him._

_All beings feared the dark. Whether they be man or beast, all creatures that walk upon the earth instinctively avoid the dark - but not them. To those who had faced him, the darkness did not scare them, nor did its hidden, unknown wonders. What they feared the most, is the monster that lay beyond the dark, the one that would slay the unknown phantasms leaving only his own undeniable, terrifying existence._

_The arrogance they once displayed, the pride that was fundamental to their identity, to crush them beneath his foot... how satisfying! The fear they directed to him and their broken spirits was as intoxicating as the sweetest drink in the world._

_He chuckled to himself once more. He had nothing to do within this lonely room other than to reminisce and scour his broken memories. Chains rubbed and clinked in the dark and the multiple manacles that bound his hands and feet were a constant reminder of what they had tried - and failed - to do._

For two years, they had tried to weaken me by trying to seal my Quirk_, he thought. _How funny would their faces be, when they eventually realize that they failed once more.

_Seven Quirk Inhibitors bound his hands up to his elbows just as seven more wrapped his ankles and calves in an uncomfortable embrace. Fourteen Q.I.'s, this amount would have been sufficient to subdue even a villain of the same level power as the Number Two Hero: Endeavor rendering them powerless; unable to move, unable to use their power, only able to minutely move their eyelids as they blink and nothing else._

_But not him._

_Never him._

_Izuku Midoriya would never succumb to this weakness. His Quirk, his inherent individuality, had continuously struggled - evolving and overcoming this obstacle. He would do no less. How could he? He would not bow under this pressure. He will get stronger. He will overcome all obstacles placed before him._

_Sensitive ears pricked upon the slight noise from beyond the direction of which he thought the door would be at. He heard the release of the latch and silent rush of fresh air as the portal opened and yet, no light appeared within the dark room._

_FLASH_

_A pillar of light came down from the heavens; symbolic in how it was the only beacon in the dark as it shined down on his seated form. Sensitive eyes - long used to the times spent in total darkness - tightly closed as pain rushed into his head. _Damn,_ Izuku tried to ease his headache by shaking his head._

_Suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head up. Pain flared from the roots of his hair, yet he paid it no mind. It was nothing compared to the level of pain he had handled every day._

_Closed eyes opened and slowly got used to the bright light. Under the sudden illumination, he could see that he and his chair were the only things visible under the light, everywhere else in his room was still a dark, deep, black. Before him, right at the edge where darkness met light, were two silhouettes; a man and a little girl._

_"Why is he restrained like that?"_

_His ears twitched as a young voice reached out into the dark. It was young, as young as he was perhaps? He didn't know as his sense for his supposed age had long since been muddled as while he could intellectually tell that he was a child, but emotionally, he felt he was so much older. Regardless of their age though, Izuku could still tell that it was a girl._

_"This is to make sure the animal knows his place, milady. It wouldn't do if it were to rebel and bite the hand that feeds it."_

Liar, _he thought,_ you just don't want to get near me without these restraints. You're afraid.

_The subtle trembling of the hand that held his head in place by his hair lead credence to this line of thought. Izuku was terribly amused at the bravado the man behind him tried to display._

_For any other human without a quirk that enhances their senses, and even then, the room would have appeared to be only filled with darkness. For him, his eyes had quickly gotten used to the darkness and his vision pierced the abundant shadows. Inwardly, he grew amused. It seems like he had gotten stronger again if his quirk was starting to manifest even with this many Q.I.'s he had on his body._

Oh, wow. _Eyes widened in surprise as he saw the place that he had been staying in for an unknown amount of time._

_Glowing emerald eyes surveyed the opulent room that he had actually been given. It was covered with luxurious curtains and soft, thick carpets. The part of the floor he was seated at was marble in its entirety with no seams to indicate it had been cut; like the whole floor had been carved from a single block of the material._

_His eyes-the only part of his body he could move as his head was still held in place by the hand gripping his hair-roved around the room, appreciating the beauty of the objects it held._

_"Hoh~ can you see through my Veil, young one?"_

_A smooth, deep voice called out to him making his eyes snap towards the direction it originated. His eyes now capable of piercing through the darkness saw those two in their entirety._

_He stood in a considerable height, well over all of the people gathered within this room and towered over what most would consider to be the above average height. Almost 7 feet tall, he was dressed in an impeccable suit of exquisite quality, like one of the many Mafia Dons of old, clinging tightly on his muscular frame. A youthful face greeted him one that indicated a high-borne bloodline as his raised cheekbones and tall nose would show. He looked to be a man in his early thirties, but to Izuku whose eyes had seen through numerous deceptions, his true age could not be anymore obvious. He may look much like a young man, but those wizened eyes told the truth of his story. Grey eyes were framed by stylish, frameless glasses and his head was topped with a messy mop of equally gray hair with a style much like his own._

_He was handsome, many women would agree, but his presence was unnerving and chilling in a way that most would be unable to describe. His bulky musculature - hidden, but still visible through his charcoal-black and white, smart casual suit and dress shirt, only added to his intimidating size and presence._

_Izuku held his gaze, unwilling to submit. He could feel that unnerving presence attempting to lower his spirit but he held on. His recently developed stubborn nature would settle for nothing less than total domination._

_He will not submit._

_He will not bow._

_Izuku held this man's empty gaze with unquenchable ferocity. His eyes burned with monstrous determination, his gaze unyielding in its own intensity. Amusement appeared in the man's eyes and his empty smile seemed to have been filled with sparse emotion - making it more genuine. A nod was sent to his direction; an acknowledgment to him, it seemed. Turning his eyes, his gaze landed on the last of the pair._

_She was beautiful, of that, there was no mistake. She may be young, but in Izuku's eyes, there was no doubt that she will soon grow to be a peerless beauty. Such was her vision that even he who had an enormous amount of resentment brewing in his heart, had been charmed; his breath stolen by her comeliness._

_Youthful, sakura-pink lips curved into a lovely smile and pale cheeks colored upon his attention. Bluish-black hair made in a hime-style cut covered her back and reached down to her waist and blue-gray eyes lit up as they met his own. Pale, white shoulders were exposed under the thin shoulder straps of her white dress with blue ruffles that reached down to her ankles while her feet were adorned by pale blue sandals._

_Her figure was petite, befitting a child her age; her face, angelic in its beauty. She possessed an overwhelming amount of symmetrical features that one could not help but wonder, is this really a human or is she a fantasy made real? A fairy made manifest upon this cruel world, perhaps? Clad in her pure white dress, one wouldn't be blamed for mistaking this as a dream for she was a vision of loveliness - a grace upon this ugly reality._

_Suddenly, her eyes lowered as her expression became shy and the pink in her cheeks deepened in color. She turned her face to the side, seemingly in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. Izuku released a breath he did not know he was holding as he was entranced by her._

_"Hmhmhm. It seems our young friend has been entranced by your beauty, Miyuki."_

_"Otou-sama... please do not tease Miyuki?"_

_Her voice were like the refreshing breeze of Spring; gentle and cool, one would not be blamed for wanting to hear her speak more._

An angel_, he dazedly thought. _She must have been an angel_. A sharp pain made itself known to his scalp once more, and this time it was decidedly much more painful. Although it was not something he couldn't endure, the surprise he felt was voiced out instead._

_"Ah...," the girl called out with widened eyes. Reaching her hand out she said, "Please, don't hurt him."_

Whoever this girl was, she must be someone greatly respected_, he thought as the grip on his hair lightened. He looked to the girl with hard eyes and saw her sigh in relief._

_"Who..." he tried to speak, yet his voice was hoarse after so long without even a single drop of water. Swallowing whatever miniscule saliva his mouth had, he spoke once more, "Who are you...?"_

_"Do you know why you are here, Izuku-san?" the giant of a man asked as he laid a hand on - what he presumed to be, by her way of address earlier - his daughter all the while ignoring his own question._

_He didn't answer. He didn't want to. Izuku was stubborn and though it would be petty, this was his own, small form of rebellion against these people who had become his captors. Not even when the hand on his head began to pulll warningly did he speak. _Let them talk. I won't_, he decided ._

_"You have a strong mind, Izuku-san. That is one of the reasons why I bought you in that slave auction. It is impressive how you have kept your mind so well even if - and I know, I'm sure - it is somewhat damaged, after your training." The man, that was what Izuku would continue to call him as he did not know his name, smiled in what seemed to be pride._

_"Did you know? Our training is well-known for producing unquestioning, blindly obedient soldiers. Although, some flaws do exist in an otherwise perfect program; our products do tend to be too obedient and become mindless. Some may even call it a reprogramming, or a reconditioning."_

_Izuku did not know whether to be scared of the casual way he described the end result of the hell he went through, or the way he seemed to be delighted that he had not lost his mind. He glared at the man just as he had reached a hand out and tousled his fringes._

_"You are very impressive. That mind of yours, that unbelievable strength of will, I want that. Aside from your power, I want that... _desperately_," a light burned in those empty eyes. A light that Izuku could not describe, yet he could feel the cold chill that touched his spine when he saw that light._

_A low snap was heard within the room and the chains that bound him fell onto the floor. Interlinked chains from his manacles rattled as his arms fell to his side, numb after a long time bound into its previous position. Disbelieving eyes looked up to amused orbs._

_"From now on, you will guard my daughter, my most precious treasure. You will live your life for her. Her wishes will be your command. Her orders, your reason for living,"_

_Light disappeared as darkness rose from every corner of the room. Warmth left as an unimaginable chill entered his bones. The man smiled but it was empty. His eyes were amused, but it was empty._

_The man was empty, his whole being, a void that does nothing but take and devour._

_"From now on, your life is hers and your fate shall rest in her words. Until your death, you are the property of my princess, Miyuki Yotsuba."_

_He gulped in fear. He was scared. His heart beat in terror at the unimaginable emptiness that he had perceived. Nevertheless, he will not back down. He will not submit. He will not bow._

_Not for them._

_"W-who," he inwardly cursed his stutter. "Who are you?"_

_The man smiled. It was neither his empty smile, nor was it that smile that threatened - no, promised - to devour everything it could reach until it has been satisfied. If one could perfectly describe it, it would have been normal. It was a normal smile filled with pride for an achievement, or whatever else._

_Arms as thick as his body stretched to the sides in a parody of a priest's welcoming gesture. Eyes filled with inhuman emptiness looked upon him in child-like happiness._

_"We, are the shadows that roam the ground. We, are the shadows that have been cast by the light. We, are the ones that nurture that same light._

We, are [ ]*, the emptiness that devours all that threaten the light_."_

_He placed his right hand on top of his heart and did a bow, "But if you are asking for my appellation, then, many call me Sensei, The Trader, The Emperor, Demon King of the Far East; all of which are well-known within the belly of the Shadow Societies and many who are familiar with my face call me Genzou Yotsuba. But all who know of my existence know me as... _

All for One._"_

**()**

"I cannot accept this."

"You're still going on about that...?"

Izuku sighed as a displeased voice entered his ears before he went back to his duties. The sun shined brightly yet gently - neither harsh in its brightness nor hot to the body - as fluffy, white clouds provided adequate cover from its blinding rays. If he had to say, the day was too perfect to waste by spending all of one's time within the mansion's walls.

It was the reason why he and his mistress were outside in the gardens. They were currently beneath a brown pergola that was built at the very center of a miniature hedge maze.

Seated on a white garden chair facing a similarly painted garden table, was a casually dressed Momo. She was dressed in a pretty yellow sundress and a gray shrug over her shoulders. Ruby red sandals adorned her feet with twining red straps that reached up to half of her slender calves. Her hair was out of her usual ponytail and was instead arranged into a thick, intricate fishtail braid with a pale pink ribbon tying her hair at the end.

Since his mistress was dressed in such a casual attire, he himself had been ordered to be more informal in her presence. As such, he was currently dressed in only a white dress shirt under a black waistcoat with golden buttons and a bow tie on his neck; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Black formal pants and black leather dress shoes covered his lower body; a silver buckle being the only thing that truly drew one's attention in his otherwise plain attire. His jacket was neatly folded and was currently hung on the handle of the cart he had brought together with a plain white tea towel. His green hair was in its usual side-swept style and dangling cross earring was in its usual place.

Truly, aside from his missing jacket, Izuku looked the same as he always did.

Izuku sighed once more as he spotted the pout on her lips. _Nothing I can do about it_, he thought as he continued on his task. Quietly, he enjoyed the wind caressing his face as he carefully moved some items about on his cart. With a gentle flick of his wrist, a small tea stove lit up and heated a polished bronze kettle on top of it.

Leaving the water to boil, he carefully measured just the right amount of Black Tea leaves before pouring it into the French Press; leaving it there until the water finished boiling. Taking a three-tier cake stand filled with scones, sandwiches and cakes in hand, Izuku placed it at the center of the garden table with porcelain platters and silverware following after.

Turning to him with upturned eyes and pouting lips - _She looks cute_, he privately thought - she asked him, "Izuku, why didn't you get recommendations? Didn't you get the highest marks in the mock exams in both the practical and written portions? Typically speaking, with such outstanding scores you would be qualified for getting the recommendations into U.A.!"

"Putting aside the question of where you got hold of the results for the mock exams when they are supposed to be privately sent to the examinees... since this is a Hero School, its natural that they only have a limited amount of reserved seats for recommendations right? Its obvious that all of them have already been taken and so I was not able to make it for the recommendation."

Although his gaze was dry after hearing what should have been the result of an illegal action taken against a certified government body, he couldn't help but try to pacify his partner who had been lashing out with a sharp tongue.

"You understand right," he continued. "With such a limited amount of resources, it should only be natural that the system should be 'First Come, First Serve'?"

Hearing his answer, a sneer appeared on her face, twisting such beautiful features into a harsh expression of contempt. Anger simmered in her eyes as she turned her face away from her attendant.

"Yes, that should be how it is... - then, how do you explain why I, who was placed second to you, received the recommendation letter and yet you were passed by even if you were the rightful recipient of the honor?"

Momo's gaze were as sharp as her words as she glared at the white envelope bearing the seal of the National University of Heroics that contained a letter addressed to her and another separate sheet of paper that dictated the reason of her current dissatisfaction.

Izuku smiled in a self-deprecating manner. Of course he knew what his mistress was getting at. He knew why she was angry, but he knew that there was nothing that could be done about it. As he poured heated water into the french press, allowing the tea leaves to steep, he pondered on this current issue.

_The National University of Heroics is the leading expert in national quirk research and education_, he thought. _Naturally, they are the one who have the authority to recommend exceptional talent to the various Hero Schools in the country._

His eyes were vigilant as he watched the infusion of flavor happen within the French press.

_While they have been tasked with being impartial, the National University Recommendation Commission is still a council of humans - and when a group of humans come together, it is only inevitable that personal interest suddenly become much more important. While I'm sure that they only select the most talented of applicants, who's to say that they don't have a personal stake in their selections._

Looking at his mistress from the corner of his eyes, he could see that she was still disgruntled and upset over the matter. His lady was sharp; intelligent and clever beyond most. Izuku was sure that she had already deciphered why he had been left out of the list the first time she had opened and read the letter.

Vibranium.

It could only be because of that. This miracle material had been the one that revolutionized the world, and only one family can produce them.

_Yaoyorozu-dono's company supplies Vibranium to every country in the world that can afford it. While this is the case, of course there is still the matter of priority. Vibranium can only be produced in very limited amounts, as such, even if countries could pay the price, not all of them can get it. _Izuku could remember the long waiting list that he had seen once inside Suzuki's study in the mansion.

_Priority for the right to purchase Vibranium depended on a lot of factors that the Yaoyorozu Conglomerate does not compromise on, but good deeds should be rewarded with good deeds, yes?_

Izuku inwardly scoffed at that thought. When the Recommendation Commission saw that his mistress had applied for a recommendation into U.A., they must have surely thought that by granting her the recommendation they would be able to curry favor and get the country's government a much more favorable response for this month's negotiations for the acquisition of Vibranium.

_Fools_, he thought. Pouring the finished tea into a finely detailed teacup with elegant curves and detailed embellishments placed on top of a similar saucer, he laughed at their attempt, _Yaoyorozu-dono is no fool. He will know that this was an attempt to curry favor, but there will be no chance that he will reciprocate. Milady's father is an upright man of great character. He is a fair man and will not allow anyone to gain an unfair advantage prior to entering negotiations._

"Even if you say that, milady, the fact is that it can't be helped," he said.

Setting the cup and saucer in front his mistress, ignoring her dissatisfied glare, Izuku turned to her and she looked away in a huff; he laughed in amusement making her pout worse. _Now, what should I do to fix her mood..._, he pondered. Momo noticed his eyes never looked away from her face, puzzling her as to why.

"What," she snappishly asked as an embarrassed glare appeared on her face - unable to endure the soft looks he had been sending her. "What are you looking at?"

He didn't answer her. His voice was quiet, his gaze... soft; it didn't take long until a harmonious atmosphere was shared between the two. Momo, feeling that the air had changed, lost her previous anger as pink appeared on her cheeks. Though she hadn't lost her glare, she struggled to maintain her expression before she ultimately turned her head to the side hoping that he would be unable to see her face.

Izuku watched as her cheeks darkened in shade. He watched her expressions as she lost her glare and as her face relaxed in increasing shyness. _She looks so peaceful_, he mindlessly thought. His eyes were gentle and affectionate in their gaze; Izuku did not notice, but his usual placid expression shifted into something more natural - something, more human.

"S-seriously," her eyes closed as she stuttered. "What are you looking at?"

"You."

Her cheeks gained a deeper color at his reply. Her face lowered slightly in embarrassment, yet her lips twitched into a smile.

"I'm grateful, you know? Ever since that incident I have not been the same, so, I always feel that I am being saved when you get angry in my place."

Izuku's voice was soft as he spoke to her. There was affection and gratitude in his words - something that anyone with ears would be able to tell - but for the two of them, there was an unexpressed feeling behind them. This undercurrent of emotion ran between them, telling one another of a message that could not be put into words.

"Liar."

"I'm not lying."

"Izuku you liar. You are always lecturing me...," Momo's voice carried a hint of sadness and disappointment, yet it was not one that could threaten their mood.

The sadness and disappointment she felt, they were in no way directed towards her attendant - rather, they were directed at herself. This was something that Izuku could tell. His mistress had always possessed the bad habit of placing everything on herself; to carry burdens that were not her's to carry, to blame herself for things that were not her fault.

One might even say that Momo Yaoyorozu feels insecure in herself, that she possesses an inferiority complex.

It had been more than a month - two and a half months, in fact - since the kidnapping in the most recent Musutafu Annual Charity Ball. Momo knew all his secrets just as he knew all the things that she kept to her chest. She was his confidant, just as he was hers; their bond would permit nothing but the truth between the two of them. As such, she knew what had occurred in that event. No details had been spared.

She had been horrified - beyond terrified, with the deed he had committed, at the blood that covered his hands as he returned to his, no, _their_ prepared safe house, but she did not push him away. She could still remember, whenever she closed her eyes, as he had arrived inside their safe house just as their friend Hijiri had fallen asleep. His eyes were tired, his gait was clumsy - stumbling as he made his way towards her.

Although he had kept his usual pristine appearance - _A butler is always presentable no matter the situation_, he would always say in that mock-superior tone that never failed to make her laugh - she could spot the drop of red on his neck. Momo could remember cringing at the sight of fresh blood, but it was punted out of her mind as she took in his tired but struggling visage.

_If I had been better_, or, _If I had been stronger_, or, _If I had been more on guard_, such thoughts burned in her mind for the last few months. The blood in his spotless hands, she knew how they had been stained with them. She knew that his anger, his rage, at the thought of her getting hurt on the night where she was having fun and relaxing with their friend when there was little opportunity to do so, had set off his darker side. She was defenseless as she had let her guard down - something that mortified her as it had gone against everything that she had been taught in both Social Engineering and martial arts; it was anathema - which made her dependent upon her butler's protection.

_How am I supposed to become a Hero if I am this careless!?_, she thought in reprimand.

Because she had been careless, her Izuku had been forced to bathe in blood once more. He knew she was a capable person, and thus his worries were usually unfounded as he let her make her own choices - choosing only to interfere in the event that she had made a mistake - but on that night, she was careless and let her guard down; she had allowed his darker side to come out. It was a remnant from their pasts, from his childhood in _That_ _Place_. Now, he was struggling to contain it once more. It was lucky that her servant had returned swiftly after finishing his self-appointed task and approached her; he had admitted that she was the only one who could calm him down.

He saw the crease on her forehead and guilty shine in her eyes, and Izuku could not help but feel helpless. He could protect her from assassins, he could protect her from people who would wish to take advantage of her, he could protect her from a sheltered life inside a mostly empty mansion, but, Izuku Midoriya is helpless to protect his mistress from herself - her own doubts. He couldn't stand that. He could not bear that sad expression on her face.

_She shouldn't make faces like that._

Unbidden, his eyes were attracted to a single strand of unbound hair and his body moved on its own. A hand was raised, and with a gentleness that was in direct contrast to his more savage side that he had shown more than a month ago, his hand reached out and tucked it behind her left ear. Onyx met emerald in surprise, distracting Momo from her previous thoughts. The hand he moved, he did not remove it as he gently placed it on her madly red cheeks.

"I have already said that I was not lying. Are you really going to make me repeat myself for a third time?" there was a teasing lilt within his words that she could not help but react to.

"Even if you return the recommendation and reject it, it doesn't mean that I will be selected to receive it. If you decline it at this eleventh hour, you will not be able to avoid a blemish in your appraisal."

Eyes glistening in apology, she tried to speak but words stuck in her throat when she saw his face. His gaze was as gentle as it had always been when he looks at her. His face which was usually taut with alertness was fully relaxed in her presence even as a smile - something different from all the others she had seen him wear - settled on his lips.

Her heart shook and skipped a beat as she tried to brand that expression into her mind. She never wanted to forget that expression; for that was her goal. To give him as many chances and opportunities to make expressions such as these, that was the promise she made to herself after they first met.

_... I'll make you smile. Even if you forgot how to do so, I will never give up until you have learned how to do so once again. To smile from your heart, to feel genuine happiness, I will make sure that you will experience that for many, many times from now on..._

_... That, is my promise!..._

Brushing her pink cheeks gently with his thumb, he said, "I know you worry. You have always done so in concern of my well-being, but you must know, I hold you in my thoughts the same way you do for me."

A stunned expression was on his mistress's face which was followed swiftly by a flustered opening of her mouth. Though puzzled with the reaction, Izuku watched amused as Momo tried to speak but was unable, it seemed, to gather her thoughts to form a coherent sentence. He felt the burning warmth on the palm of his hand and he couldn't help but savor it; once more brushing his thumb across it with distracted thoughts in his head

_Yes, it was this_, he reminded himself. _This is what I fight for. This peace... this small happiness... even if I am to be drowned in my own darkness and buried under my sins, as long as this person can have that warm, small share of happiness that I can provide... it will be worth it. All my suffering, all my pains, all my sacrifices, everything is worth it for this woman._

_... My fate is your fate, my life(death) rests within your sword..._

_... Our contract is complete. My life rests in your hands - you are mine, just as I am yours..._

Cheeks still pink, she placed her own hand on the one on her cheek, her expression calmed down from her earlier expressions of anger, increasing shyness, and embarrassment; all that was left was a light feeling in her heart. She looked up, straight into his eyes and the affection she felt could not be hidden at all; not even if she tried. Her smile was sweeter than any honey the world could provide and his heart melted at the sight; just as it was wont to do in the everyday he spent with her.

"We'll still be together right?"

Unease was evident in her words. She didn't want to be separated from him.

"Yes," was his firm reply. "Although I may not have received the recommendation, there is still the entrance exam."

His reply burned like an inferno and was just as unyielding. Izuku would pass the test - of that, there could be no doubt. She felt assured after hearing his words, after all, when had her butler ever lied to her? He said - no, he promised her that he will pass and that they will be heroes together and that will be what will happen.

"I am aware that the recommended students are allowed to watch the regular examinees' tests. By then, please watch me, milady. For you, I will do my best."

She laughed as her worries were put to rest. If her over-competent servant actually did his best then there was no need to worry. U.A. will need to be ready because she was sure that they had never had a student like her Izuku. She looked at his resolute face and she continued to enjoy this moment in time as her feelings solidified; cold tea left forgotten on the table.

Momo was sure that there was nothing left to worry about and continued to enjoy his company. After all...

_He was one Hell of a Butler._

**()**

A light mist covered the streets as the skies slowly turned blue with the rising of the sun. During such early hours one wouldn't normally see people in the streets until two or three hours later, but, that was not the case for the Musutafu Market District as storekeepers are usually awake earlier than most in order to prepare their shops. Although the proprietors were wide awake, they were not the only ones as customers who wish to take advantage of the small amount of people are up and about.

Izuku was one of them.

"Oh?," a voice called out to him from the side. "Ain't this Izuku-han? Haha, how've you been? Long time no see!"

Turning to his side he saw a bear of a man waving to him from one of the stores next to a white mini truck. He stood taller than his own five feet and nine inches with muscular arms that were as big as a toddler's head. He was dressed in a plain white shirt that had its sleeves rolled up to his shoulders and brown pants with durable cloth. A grey apron was tied around his waist and a white strip of twisted cloth was wrapped around his forehead.

Kuma Kumatani was certainly a large man that towered over all others who didn't have an abnormal height. Certainly, that was an eye-catching characteristic for an individual, but, to Izuku who had been acquainted with this person, his most identifying feature was his face - it was a bear, a brown bear to be specific.

"Kumatani-san? Good morning, it's been a long time!"

"Haha, g'morning!"

Furred lips pulled back in a manner similar to a snarl, leaving one with the image of an enraged bear; his terror-inducing image, was a direct contrast to his friendly and cheerful voice. Beady, black eyes narrowed in what seemed to be a glare, but Izuku was familiar enough with the man to know that it was an action made out of delight.

Izuku approached him and was treated to a hearty slap to the back, and certainly, it was as painful as its echo sounds like. Bearing through it with a grin, Izuku tried to ignore the sting on his back.

"Where've you been, Izuku-han? It's been some time!"

"Likewise," he replied. "I've been somewhat busy so, I'm sorry if I hadn't been here as often as before."

"Hoh~, busy takin' care of yer young mistress, eh?"

While a bear's face was certainly hard to read, that was not the case for Kuma's tone of voice. Izuku could clearly hear the suggestive message that his bear-headed acquaintance tried to convey. A light blush appeared on his cheeks as he shyly scratched the back of his head.

"How many times do I have to tell, you? It isn't like what your thinking, Kumatani-san." lowering the bill of his brown newsboy cap, Izuku tried to cover his embarrassed face.

"Hahaha!"

"Oof!"

Coughing out in surprise, Izuku sent an indignant glare but it was summarily ignored as Kuma boisterously laughed, " Could've fooled me, with how yer actin' 'round her! But, if that really is the case, that'd be good, 'cuz otherwise, Mimi would'a been very disappointed!"

Mimi Kumatani, a small slip of a ten year old girl, was the daughter of Kuma Kumatani. Unlike her father, she had inherited most of her features from her mother and sported wild brown hair, a cute face and a small button nose; from her father, she had inherited his bear ears. Remembering that fiery tempered little girl who had once declared that she will be marrying him, Izuku could only awkwardly smile.

"Anyway, anythin' you wanted to buy, Izuku-han?"

"Ah, that's right!," Izuku's eyes widened as he remembered his purpose in going to the market this early. "Do you have any fresh fish available?"

"Yup!" Kuma smiled as a massive hand heavily slapped the side of his white mini truck causing it to shake under his strength. "Yer lucky, I jus' got back from Tsukiji so you'll be my first customer o' the day! But, why d'ya need fish anyway? I could've sworn I saw one of yer maids buy some from Old Sakana down the street yesterday."

Upon that reminder, Izuku couldn't help but remember why he needed purchase fish this early in the morning. His brow twitched in irritation as he was reminded of one of his subordinates mistake. Shadows danced on his face and an eerily sweet smile spread on his face. Kuma, seeing his expression, subtly flinched in fear.

_Scary!_, his bear fur seemingly paled in fear upon seeing the dark atmosphere that proliferated around his younger companion's form. He sweated in buckets as an eerie music played unseen in background. _So scary!_

"Fufufu," a low laugh slipped from Izuku's lips, and Kuma unconsciously stepped back. "Milady wanted to have a traditional breakfast this morning and so I instructed the maids to purchase the necessary ingredients the other day."

_His ears twitched as screams increased in volume - he didn't know where they were coming from - setting his instincts into overdrive._

"This morning, as I was preparing milady's breakfast, mysteriously, our fish seems to have disappeared! Shocking right?"

_The devil's smile widened as the screams of the damned screamed louder. Kuma tried to escape but his body was frozen in fear and could only take another step back._

"Of course, I tried to find out why this happened, and what do you know? The culprit was one of the newer maids. She had a cat quirk you see, so she had the same instincts and some features of a cat."

_The screams were deafening as they bombarded his ears with cries of mercy, resentment, hatred, pleasure, and cries for help. The devil close his eyes as his smile widened a tad bit to inhuman lengths while his surroundings darkened. Slowly, a form came out of the darkness. Stringy black hair grew from a horned head that was slowly turning bald, just as pale blue lips on a deathly pale face stretched into a gruesome smile - exposing bloody fangs._

"Naturally, that behavior will not be tolerated among our staff," _his teeth glinted in the sparse morning light as his inhuman smile simply looked the slightest bit unhinged. _"So I had to... _punish _her. Kukuku. Her reactions were most... _entertaining._"

_The screams echoed in his head even as an intense orchestra of mind-numbing music and satanic Latin chanting blanked his mind. Beady black eyes widened, unable to look away as blood dripped from illusory - and he knew it was illusory! It had to be! - demonic eyes._

"And that's why I had to buy more fishes here today."

As if it were all an illusion, everything seemed to snap back into normality. The dark atmosphere disappeared, no demonic music, no Latin chanting, no screams, and no Rakshasas bleeding through their eyes! _Was everything a lie?_, Kuma thought.

Izuku opened his eyes and saw Kuma pressing his massive body into a wall behind him. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he saw his friend's wide eyes and terrified visage. The smell of sweat and wet fur made him crinkle his nose and asked, "Kumatani-san, a-are you ok?"

"Th-this one is fine, there is n-no need to w-worry."

"Why are you suddenly speaking in polite speech?" His sense of confusion only grew as he saw bear fur puff up and shiver in fright.

"N-nothin'," Kuma stuttered in reply. "Izuku-han, yer one scary kid."

Izuku turned his head to the side and pouted as he felt that that description doesn't apply to him at all._ I'm not that scary you know_, he thought. If other people who knew him were aware of what he was thinking, they would certainly agree that he was an entirely scary person.

"Anyway," trying to ignore the earlier incident, Kuma tried to get back on to their earlier topic. "What d'ya need? I think I have it here in stock."

"Show me what you got."

Kuma opened the containment doors of his white mini truck and showed towering piles of stacked coolers. With his strength that was on par with the animal he resembled, he quickly brought a few out and showed ice filled coolers packed with fresh fish. Shishamo smelt, Sea bream, Bonito, Mackerel, Eel, all of these were displayed proudly from within their containers. Izuku could even see a cooler filled with Pacific Saury.

"There are some Maguro out in the back of the pile if you want to see it too."

"No no, these are fine. These are some very good fishes, Kumatani-san." Izuku said as he quickly picked out his choices. "I'll take some mackerel and eel, and also - "

He turned his head abruptly - startling Kuma as his eyes were directed towards the mini truck. Kuma blinked in puzzlement, "Izuku-ha -..."

"Shh!"

Izuku placed a finger on his lips as he asked the bear-man to quiet his voice. Sharp ears twitched and perked as it heard the disturbance it had sought. _Achoo!_, it was a small, muffled sound that came from within the mini truck container. He heard a sniffle before another muffled sneeze came from within.

"Hello?," he called out gently as he approached the truck container. Hearing a small gasp, he stopped at the door and said, "Are you there?"

Naturally, there was no answer. A slight application of strength let him leap into the entrance and slowly walk into the container. Hasty shuffling could be heard as well as the ruffle of cloth and heavy breathing.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." he called out again in that same gentle voice that had captured his mistress complete attention in multiple times, hoping that whatever it was that was in his voice could calm down his little goal.

There, at the back of the container in between two coolers, was a little girl. Slowly, he stepped closer to her only to stop as she started to whimper. Two red eyes, glistening like precious rubies, stared at him; trepidation and terror evident from deep within. _Where have I seen eyes like those before_, Izuku thought to himself as flashes of green fire and and feminine shouts ran through his mind. Kneeling in front of her, yet not daring to take another step forward, he kept his eyes on her's at all times.

Carefully he looked over her, trying to see if she was injured or if there was anything wrong. She was small, _Perhaps five or six years old?_, he thought as he stared at her pure white hair and a single blunt yellow horn that peeked through the strands on her forehead. She was cute, of that there could be no doubt, as her smooth, round cheeks and wide ruby red eyes manifested a desire to shield her from the world within a person. She was dressed in rags and fresh bandages wrapped around her arms; something that was a cause for alarm.

Izuku's eyes narrowed as suspicions began to brew within his mind. He was broken out of his thoughts when he saw the subtle shivering of the little girl in front of him. His gaze softened as a sense of sympathy permeated his being.

"Don't be scared. It's alright," he whispered in what he hoped to be in a soothing tone. "It's alright, no one's going to hurt you."

_It's working_, he thought. Happy that although she was still shivering, he could see that it was no longer out of terror, but out of the chilly air. Slowly, patiently, he inched closer towards someone who was clearly in need of help. Although Izuku was not a person who would particularly care if someone died in front of him, he could feel something - a connection, that tied him and her together.

A sense of understanding.

A sense of sympathy between those who had gone through the same things.

He looked into her eyes and he was reminded of the time he had spent in [ ]. He was reminded of the loneliness. He was reminded of the pain he would go through. He would remember the nights wishing for relief. He would remember wishing for someone to talk to, to share the days with.

He wished for someone to save him.

He held out his hand - something he wished someone would have done for him in the past - reaching out towards her with his palm facing up. Never did he break his gaze from her; trying to convey that he understood.

"Everything will be alright, now," he declared with all the certainty in the world. "Why? I am here."

Precious red eyes glistened with tears as she understood. A pale white hand slowly, hesitantly, placed itself within his and Izuku firmly grasped it in turn. _I won't let go_, he seemed to say, yet no words came out of his mouth. Her hands were cold, he noted. It was cold from the chill within the container, but what was more evident to him, was that it was cold since no one had ever held it before.

"I won't let go. I know, how it feels like to have no one to hold to. It's lonely isn't it? It crushes you, doesn't it? It's painful, that feeling in your chest when you know no one is there for you even as others continuously take advantage of you... when you have to be strong since no one would protect you in your weakness... I know that feeling all too well. That's why, I won't let go. I'll hold on until you tell me otherwise, and I know, I have a feeling that will not be coming for a long time."

Tears fully sprung and rolled down pink cheeks and her shoulders shook from repressed sobs. Izuku knew that those pearl-like tears were not out of sadness, but rather a genuine happiness that she had found someone who understood. Faster than he could blink, she rammed into his chest and his arms immediately wrapped around her cold form.

A star burst from within his _Space-That-Should-Not-Exist_ forming his desired ability. It was a minor power of being able to control his temperature and with it, he raised his generated heat to provide the cold girl in his arms some warmth. A sigh of relief came from within his chest as she snuggled deeper into his arms.

"My name is Izuku Midoriya. What's your name, little one?," he asked.

"... Eri," she mumbled from within his embrace.

Placing a hand on her head and gently stroking her hair, Izuku asked with a small smile on his face,

"Well, currently you have two choices Eri. We can either go to the orphanage and put you in foster care," something she must disagree with if the stiffening of her shoulders were any indication. "Or, you can choose to come with a suspicious Onii-san like me. What do you choose?"

Pulling out from his embrace, Eri held her chin in her hand as she made a show of thinking deeply on the subject - something that amused Izuku and left his heart feeling light as she was already getting comfortable with him. After a few seconds of making a show of her decision, Eri silently pointed at him.

"I see," he breathed out in relief. "I'm glad."

"Oi, Izuku-han! Everythin' alright in there?" Kuma's booming voice called out from outside the mini truck's container, causing the shy Eri to hide behind him.

"Everything's fine, Kumatani-san. I'll be coming out soon."

Standing up from his knees, Izuku took a step forward before turning back and holding out his hand once more. Bright morning light streamed into the cramped container, bathing his outline in heavenly light. To Eri, this was something that would always remain in her mind. This was something that would brand into her memories as the day that she had been saved. This person in front of her, he was someone she was glad she was able to meet.

Whether it was through chance, or a quirk of fate, _Eri was glad to have met you_, she would always think.

"Come, let's go home Eri."

"Home...," she muttered as she grabbed on to his hand.

As they walked out of the container and towards a stunned Kuma Kumatani, Izuku abruptly stopped and turned towards his new charge with a mischievous smile and wink and said,

"By the way, I want to get this out before anything else. This Onii-san is _one Hell of a Butler_, you know?"

*Kuuhaku/Blank


	8. Chapter 7

Clear red eyes watched, transfixed, at the back that busied itself within the kitchen. Small dainty hands were placed on top of her lap as she sat behind a marble top kitchen island. Eri watched as the person who had taken her in - who had saved her - prepared a dish using the fish he had bought earlier in the day. Watching the green haired young man's back, a warmth originating from her chest spread towards her entirety. _What is this feeling_, she thought as a hand was placed on her chest and a puzzled look appeared on her face.

"Eri-chan?"

Hearing him call out to her, she looked up and saw his worried expression. She felt a painful twinge from inside her chest, and she didn't know what it was. All that Eri knew was that she didn't like him wearing that expression. Wiping his hands on a towel that was in his apron's pocket, her savior walked towards her and kneeled to place them at the same height.

"Is something the matter Eri-chan? Does something hurt?," he asked as he brushed her fringe with his fingers.

_It tickles_, was what she thought as she felt her chest warm and flutter. Seeing her cheeks pink while a light shined in her eyes, Izuku felt his worries fade. A warm smile spread on his lips as he laid a hand on top of her head and lightly tousled her hair.

"What~ it seems that there was nothing wrong after all?"

"Ehehe," unfamiliar muscles twitched on her face as her lips stretched into foreign lengths. "Stop it, it tickles and your messing my hair."

Izuku's smile widened as brilliant white teeth were exposed. His eyes crinkled in delight as he stood up after seeing the expression on her face. _She was smiling_, he thought. _She was smiling!_ Since the first time he saw her inside that mini truck container - that already seemed so long ago even if it happened just this morning - he had never seen her smile. If he were to tell the truth, he had been worried as her expression remained blank even as he brought her into the estate. But now, seeing that pure but inexperienced expression, he felt relief that his worries remained unjustified.

_The little one will be fine_, he sighed in relief. _She is strong. She will be fine._ He knew how traumatic it was to go through their childhoods without someone to support you. Even if Eri had not talked about it, he was able to make some conjectures on what happened to her if only based on the scars that were present on her arms beneath her bandages. He knew how hard it was to display positive emotions after such experiences as they were usually the first to disappear from the mind, and so the fact that she was able to smile meant that she could recover - that she_ would_ recover.

Eri tried to fix her messy hair but had found herself carried in Izuku's arms; instinctively wrapping her hands around his shoulders so as not to fall. Her brows knit in confusion, she looked at his face and saw the peculiar light that lay within his eyes. It was a soft light - it was warm to her senses, and whenever she saw it when he turned to her, Eri felt safe. She felt as if she was wrapped in a warm blanket, and that nobody would be able to harm her, to touch her. It felt as if all the world could try and hurt her and she would be kept safe without fail.

Izuku felt small hands place themselves on his cheeks as their owner looked at him with a cute, confused expression. Chuckling he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Ne, Izuku, what's that?"

"What's what?" It was his turn to be confused as he didn't know what it was his young charge had been referring to. A small pout formed on Eri's face as he was unable to comprehend her question.

"That!," she exclaimed. "There's something on your face. When you look at me, it's always there and-and, when I see it, I feel warm... like when you give me hugs! ... I like hugs."

He watched with amusement as his young - _What is she to me?_, he thought. _Is she a friend? A sister, perhaps? A daughter, maybe? No, no. That's not it. I can't seem to be able to put a proper label on this, so perhaps, I will call her my friend. Yes, a friend... for now._ \- friend, tried to describe what she saw. It was amusing to see her wave her arms frantically in an effort to illustrate just what it was she saw, but for Izuku, to hear that whatever it was, he was showing it everytime he turned to Eri, it was enough for him to figure it out. How could he not know what it was? Even now, as he was looking at his rescued charge, he felt that feeling permeate his body and relaxed his stoic demeanor.

"I think I know what you're trying to say, sweetie." A smirk was on his lips as he went back to the kitchen with Eri still in his arms.

"Can you tell me what it was?," was her curious question.

Izuku shook his head and told her that she would be able to understand one day. Eri puffed her cheeks but didn't say anymore, not wanting to upset her savior. _So cute_, puffed cheeks and pouty lips, Izuku couldn't help but gush inwardly at this adorable vision. Pulling a tall stool that was near the kitchen island, he set it down and allowed Eri to stand on it.

"Now," he said as he turned to her. "Breakfast is done cooking, so why don't you help me prepare Eri-chan?"

Eri leaned over the kitchen counter and saw three pairs of long, rectangular, golden-brown pieces of deep fried food. She didn't know what it was as this was the first time she had seen something like this. A small frown crossed her lips as she remembered that although her previous _Caretakers_ tried to keep her healthy, all they ever fed her was a mysterious and tasteless slop and gruel she was informed was filled with all the necessary nutrients to keep her hale.

But... this smell, this sight... although she had not tasted what it was Izuku had made yet, she could already tell it was delicious. Eri gulped down the saliva that gathered in her mouth after one sniff of the mouthwatering scent but a small bit of drool still escaped her lips. Izuku noticed this and withheld the desire to laugh at her appearance, deeming it to be rude, and merely smiled as he wiped the drool off of her face.

"These are my Char-Okakiage coated with Kaki seed batter. The young mistress wanted fish for today's breakfast so this is what I have prepared for her. Usually a servant would not be allowed to eat at the same table as their mistress, but she had practically ordered me to dine with her and made it clear that she would accept nothing but a yes. That's why you can see three pairs; the other two are for us."

"Mistress?," Eri, who was not familiar with the term, turned to him with a silent request for an explanation.

Picking up a pair of the Char-Okakiage with his hashi, Izuku placed them on top of a black lacquered plate loaded on a wooden, brown tray as he explained, "A mistress is someone I serve. She is someone I work for."

"Is she important, Izuku?"

"Very," he nodded as an affectionate expression crossed his face. "Now, you see that small bowl to your right? That's called a condiment bowl. Please pass that here and I'll show you..."

Izuku's attention had been wholly preoccupied with his new charge that he wasn't able to see the smiling figure that was leaning on the door frame. Hair as dark as the deepest night flowed down her back like a curtain of black. Her legs were bare of any covering, displaying milky white skin that was uncovered by the thigh-length red silk robe that she opted to wear above her nightwear. Onyx, cat-like eyes stared fixedly upon her most precious companion and the little girl he was with all the while unaware of the soft, longing smile on her lips.

Momo crossed her arms under her sizable chest as she quietly watched the two happy people in her kitchen. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the mansion's maids approach her with soft steps. _One of the newer maids perhaps?_, Momo knew the names of all the servants in her family's employ and the fact that this one was unfamiliar to her meant that this was probably one of the newer trainees that Izuku had accepted under his wing.

"Milady," the unfamiliar maid called only to stop as her mistress raised a slender finger to her lips and asked her to be quiet.

Curling her forefinger, Momo beckoned the cat-eared maid closer to her position and whispered, "Do you know who that little girl is, maid-san?"

"My apologies, milady, but I am unfamiliar with the girl," the maid whispered back as she bowed in apology. "From what I have heard from the other servants, Midoriya-sama had brought her into the mansion and bathed her personally. Initially, he had instructed some of the present maids to cleanse her but the little girl didn't want to let go and so he was forced to attend to her."

"I see."

Although Izuku didn't notice, Momo had been standing in the same spot for a few minutes. Her usually attentive Butler had his full attention occupied by the waif he was with and had thus given her the rare opportunity to observe Izuku other than in her presence. _He looks very happy_, she noted as her warm gaze watched her attendant compliment the celebrating young one after their plating was done.

Already, she had forgotten the existence of the maid who had been waiting for further instruction by her side and approached the nescient duo. Pink fuzzy bunny slippers sheltered her dainty feet from the cold white marble floor as well as muffle the sound of her footsteps.

Izuku had been completely absorbed in adding the garnishes and showing how it was done to Eri that he had not been alerted by an approaching presence at all. Although he was usually alert and mildly paranoid, within the walls of the mansion, surrounded by loyal servants - some of which he had personally trained - he had let down his guard. As such, when he felt arms around his waist and locking themselves at his front, fight or flight instincts blared to life.

... No, that was a lie. To say that there had been an option in his mind to flee would be an entirely erroneous notion. Dozens of plans had been made and discarded within a single instant. Izuku was ready to act but immediately calmed down after realizing who had embraced him from behind.

"That was dangerous, you know?," he sighed as he lowered the knife that was suddenly in his hand held in a backhand grip; he had been ready to stab whoever it was that was behind him. "There is a reason why I don't allow anyone to approach my back when I have my guard down - especially if they were friendly."

A chin rested on his shoulder and he lightly shivered when he felt her breath on his ear as she lightly giggled.

"I know," she whispered in a smug tone, happy that she was able to surprise him. "But I knew and trusted that you won't hurt me. You are my precious Butler after all."

Izuku sighed once again as he entrusted his back and leaned into his capricious mistress's embrace. In the long years that they had been in each other's company, rare were the times that his mistress displayed her more mischievous side. Relaxing, Izuku continued to work on the breakfast before him even as the arms around his waist tightened.

Placing a small bowl containing fresh salad with carrot ginger dressing on the brown tray together with the other dishes, Izuku was about to load the three trays on to the cart when he felt a tug on his sleeve. Looking to his right, he was able to see his charge's bowed head and shy expression and realized that she did not know his mistress.

Softly stroking Eri's hair, he asked, "Is something the matter, Eri-chan?"

"Izuku, who is she?"

Her voice was soft, tinged with shyness and a slight bit of anxiety as she looked up behind her hair at the woman behind her savior. She held his sleeve with a shaking hand and clutched his arm close; as if it would hide her from his mistress's curious gaze. Tapping the hands on his waist, Izuku silently asked his lady to release him and when she did, he picked Eri up in his arms again. Turning, he faced Momo and introduced her to his new ward.

"Remember what we were talking about earlier?" he asked as he tried to maintain a soothing tone as he could see that Eri was getting anxious. "This is the person you asked if she was important - and to me, she is. This is my mistress, Momo Yaoyorozu. Go on, you can say 'Hi'."

Taking that as her cue, Momo approached the wary girl and was careful not to touch her. Leaning down slightly to look into her eyes, she softly said, "Hi, my name is Momo. What's yours?"

"... Eri."

"Eri-chan, was it?" although the little girl's reply was no more than a whisper, her ears heard it clearly; Momo tested her name upon her tongue under her breath and decided that she liked it. "You have very pretty hair."

Blushing under the compliment, Eri hid her red face within Izuku's chest as her hands clutched his white button-up shirt. _So adorable_, Izuku chuckled. It was a thought that his mistress mirrored if her shining eyes, pink cheeks and adoring smile indicated anything. Looking at Momo who barely controlled her urge to squeal, he tried to silently convey a question.

_Can she stay?_, he pleaded. He wanted this waif to stay. For her who had gone through something similar to what happened to him, he wanted to give her something that he didn't have at that time - something he now had. Izuku wanted to be her support. He wanted to be the pillar she can lean on. He wanted to be the friend she wished she could have had. He wanted to be her brother. He wanted to be her father. He wanted to giver her everything that she never had before, to let her experience things she never had before.

Izuku wanted to give her a life she deserved. It may have been a presumptuous thought to think that he, a child of no more than fourteen, could provide for an even younger child, but Izuku Midoriya had never been ordinary. This girl he held in his arms, he resolved to give her everything he had never had at that age and more.

_Perhaps I am projecting the wants that I had when I was her age unto Eri, but it doesn't change the fact that doing so will be good for her_.

Momo, who knew him the most, who knew him as much as she knew herself, understood his wishes. Her butler wished to give her a life he never had. It was a desire she could understand; something she approved of. Nodding her head, she gave a tender smile that was quickly eclipsed by his bright, blinding expression. She would have done anything for him if she could see that expression on his face everyday.

A gentle hand was petting her hair, snapping Eri out of the daze she was in after feeling her guardian's warmth and listening to his heartbeat. She looked to her back and saw soft, onyx eyes that showed a light that she had only ever seen in Izuku.

Strawberry-pink lips smiled in a manner that had only ever been reserved for one person, but now had included another. Momo looked into shimmering ruby reds and said, "Eri-chan, welcome to the family."

Eyes widened and glistened like polished silver under a bright light, but none could deny the surprised and hopeful expression on Eri's face.

"From now on, you are part of this family," her savior's voice reached her ears with a tone that was both hopeful and understanding. Her thoughts were all but audible in his ears as he could understand the disbelief that she must have felt.

Her body trembled not out of sadness but from the hopeful happiness that wanted to burst out of her chest. _Was she... ?_, looking up, she saw the same teary but happy expression on Izuku's face and she could not help but let her tears fall. Her very first memory - one that had haunted her dreams and nightmares - had been of cold tables and blinding lights. She could remember a cold voice speaking to her as a beak-masked face appeared before her eyes.

_... You are a disaster, a curse waiting to harm this world. Your hands will always bring misfortune to all you grasp. This is the only place where you can be of use, where your gifts will be the cornerstone for the salvation of humanity; for if you go outside, no one will hold you. _**No one will accept you. No one will love you. For you are the bane to the existences that plague the world behind these walls**_..._

_He_ was wrong. _He_ was wrong! The warmth that she could feel under her clenched hands, the steady beat she could hear, the gentleness upon her head, they were real! That man with dead eyes and beaked mask was wrong, she had been accepted. Somebody had held her when she needed it most. Somebody was willing to hold her in their arms in affection even when she did not ask for it. Surely, this body which contained a curse... this identity who had been deemed as unneeded... surely it had been accepted.

She was loved. Yes, this feeling in her chest, those lights in their eyes, the warmth of their smile... surely, this was love. Emerald and Onyx looked upon her with familiar warmth that she could only associate with them. Eyes narrowed in happiness, they said, "Welcome home... Eri-chan."

"Umu, I-I'm home," she replied with the brightest, watery smile she had.

As the three of them enjoyed this moment, they remained unaware of the warm gazes that were directed to them. Hidden by the kitchen door, were the various maids of the estate who had happened upon this scene. Cheeks pink upon witnessing this heartwarming moment, Momo and Izuku were thoroughly clueless of the thoughts that had ran through their heads.

... Later that day, mistress and butler were puzzled upon the sudden squeals that would resound throughout the mansion.

**(-)**

It was rare that he had some time to himself. Lately, everything had been so busy that he was unable to find the time to relax and unwind. Truly, if he had been unable to deal with his stress, he would have gone insane long ago... or was he already insane to begin with? After all, he _had _joined a rather criminal group of people. Drawn in by their message, by their goals, by their drive, he had been seduced into this motley crew of so-called 'Villains'.

Purplish-black misty flames wavered as he shook his head and resolved himself from thinking on such matters. It was in the past, and he was in no position to question his station. The people he worked for, they were not someone you wanted to cross and he would rather not do so on the grounds of treason; he didn't want to _disappear_ after all as he very much wanted to live.

Right now, while everything was slow, it was a time for relaxation - and Kurogiri would relieve his stress even if it was the last thing he would do. Misty hands glided over a smooth, varnished wooden surface as he surveyed the antique jukebox that stood in the corner of his beloved bar.

**The Hideout,** as he called it, was his most precious possession. It was a banal name, he knew. He had been told so by his various comrades before, but he had no intention of changing the name anytime soon.

Rolling a one hundred yen coin on his gaseous, yet somehow, solid fingers, he inserted it inside the coin slot. Pressing a button among many others, he then watched the dated mechanisms of the machine pull out a vinyl correspondent to his selection. As the mechanical arm placed the delicate vinyl record on the turntable, he moved back behind his front bar and waited for the music to start. As the stylus was placed on the record, dulcet tones flooded the bar from the jukebox's powerful speakers.

"Haah," Kurogiri sighed in delight as music from the Pre-Quirk era filled his senses - to be more specific, it was a music from the 70's of the twentieth century. It was a classic.

"Why~ do~ birds, suddenly appear~? Hmhmhm~ hmhmhm~,"

He hummed as he grabbed a clean dish cloth and a glass off the counter and began to polish it. This was how he relaxed. Music, a lack of rambunctious customers and criminals who couldn't respect the sanctity of his bar - treating it as if the place were their's - and of course, his beloved bar. This, was the culmination of his dreams and hard work; he would not allow anyone to disrespect it.

"Clo~se to you~," of course, it also had some very good acoustics. As his baritone voice resounded in the bar, he had to pat himself on the back for the good decision to add the acoustics to his bar, even if the fee to do so was overpriced. _After all, one wouldn't be able to do a good band night if the acoustics were bad_, he nodded to himself. _This, is truly relaxing._

Of course, just as he was able to relax his tense shoulders, it had to be ruined.

"GAAAAAAHHHHH! NONONO, PLEASE DON' - AAAAHHHHHHH!"

_How annoying_, he thought as a forlorn sigh escaped his lips. The pleas for mercy were ruining the music and the mood which led to a much more irritable Kurogiri. It was his time to relax, his time to unwind, why did they have to ruin it - such thoughts ran around his head as he tried to control his temper.

"I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SOOOORRRYYY! STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! *CRUNCH* HIIIIII! HII - HIIIII! 'LESH 'LESH 'M TCH'RY 'M TCH'RY!"

With the ease of experience, Kurogiri ignored the tortured wails coming from the door behind him. He continued to polish his glasses with his the cloth in hand while listening to the tracks in his jukebox but his peace had already been disturbed by the ongoing screams of pain from behind him.

"Really now," he said. "What's the use of the soundproofing if they won't even switch it on?"

"Now, now. I'm sure that Tomura did not mean it," a voice filled with static called out, making Kurogiri turn around in shock as he stared at the mounted television whose screen was showed nothing but darkness. "I'm sure that he must have just forgotten."

Kurogiri fought off the light shiver that ran through his body as he recognized the voice that replied to him. It sounded like an adult and yet was also a child; like a man, yet also a woman; like a saint, and yet also a criminal. It contained a mass of conflict that was disconcerting to his senses but held in harmony like it was only natural for it to be this way. _A desecration of natural law_, this thought flashed through his mind before he could even be aware of it.

Immediately, he kneeled even as no one was present to see his gesture and yet he had the feeling that the person beyond the dark screen had seen him as he greeted, "Good evening, my master."

Once. Only once had he ever seen the person beyond the dark veil. The Emperor had wielded a presence incomparable to any other he had felt - as if his very existence had pressed a weight on to the physical world. His charisma was a force that could be felt akin the wind that blew through his misty flames. Even now, when The Emperor should have been leagues away from him - only present in the form of a blank television - and yet Kurogiri felt like he was in the same room, standing right in front of him.

"Stand, Kurogiri. There is no need to kneel in front of a television."

"Yes, my Lord," he replied as he stood in haste, not wishing to incur the wrath of his Lord all the while repressing the desire to express his discomfiture over his master's unsettling voice.

He could sense the vague air of amusement of his master - how he did this was a mystery even to himself - as he stood in attention. Unwilling to display any sign of weakness to the person whose strength could decide should he live or die in less than the time one needs to blink, he had entered a tunnel vision with his full attention being directed towards the mounted television. Already, the painful squeals and maddened howls from the soundproofed room were completely rendered non-existent in his mind, so great was his focus.

Tension was heavy and thick in the air that a knife could have cut it. Its weight was heavy on his shoulders, yet Kurogiri dared not to say anything. It was impolite and rude to speak before his superior gave the word.

"Relax, Kurogiri," his master sighed in an exasperated manner. "I am merely checking in to see how our precious Tomura is doing."

Reluctantly, the man of misty black forced his body to relax from its tense and subservient posture. He didn't want to do so, as he knew that it would certainly be disrespectful to his superior but to ignore a direct order was even worse.

"How is he, Kurogiri?"

"To say that the young master is currently upset would be an understatement, my master," Kurogiri spoke as another tortured scream tore through the air. "Giran's failure and the loss of one of our dummy corporations has hit our current finances hard. The young master has been hard at work trying to recoup our losses."

"That is good. It is quite regretful to know that Giran had failed to return a satisfying result but it is still within expectations." The delight in his master's voice made him all the more uncomfortable as the disconcerting violation to nature became all the more evident.

"One does not make an enemy out of one of the world's most powerful plutocrats and not expect a chance of failure."

Kurogiri nodded at his master's wisdom as he contemplated. The Yaoyorozu Conglomerate, although it had only been in existence for the better part of three decades, had accrued an intimidating amount of influence in both local and foreign governments. It was a massive beast whose strength could not be so easily resisted. Placing these considerations in the forefront of his thoughts, Kurogiri could not deny that failure was perhaps somewhat inevitable.

"Kurogiri," snapping out of his thoughts, he focused his attention towards the dark screen before him. Old, but young; criminal, yet saintly; masculine but feminine; his master's entirely serious tone sent a shiver of fear through his spine. "Once Tomura is done with his plaything, have him Restore Giran to an acceptable state. After he's done, get him to resume training and assist him with planning."

"Planning, my master?"

"Yes," he could hear the sinister tones within their reply and Kurogiri couldn't help but wonder if it was too late to abandon his post. _Of course it is_, he ruefully thought.

"The U.A. entrance exams are merely ten months away and school starts merely a month after. Another generation of heroes will be processed by such a prestigious institution; another generation of lies to be presented to society... as responsible and functional members of society, isn't it our duty to celebrate the arrival of our new guardians?"

They spoke in a flighty tone as if they were merely casually touching upon the subject but he could feel the malicious intent even as far as his master was from him. Kurogiri could only wonder why it was that his master held such animosity for heroes. _Not that I could say anything seeing as I am one of their so-called villains_, he laughed from within the privacy of his mind.

"Tell Tomura, it's almost time for him to appear on stage. Another generation rises, and the time for he curtains to rise are at hand so he must prepare. Plan and plot your schemes, and present to the world a wonderful debut - regale to all the tale of his League of Villains, tell them... "

A scornful, malicious intent echoed in their voice as they spoke, "_'I am Here'_!"

**(-)**

While taking a gulp of iced milk coffee and enjoying the mellow fragrance as he slowly swallowed, Suzuki Yaoyorozu quietly smiled to himself. He was watching a vague scene of colorful umbrellas passing by through the old-fashioned glass window. He disliked the rain, but sitting on the table seat in this coffee shop - which was like a back-alley hideout - and watching the gray view of the damp streets of New York couldn't get him in a bad mood. The furniture of the shop showed no indication of technology, and a nostalgic scent from the back of the counter gave him an illusion, as if he had fallen into the border between dreams and reality. It was as if the meeting he had with his corporate lawyers an hour ago was from a different life; a different world.

"It falls quite a bit, doesn't it?"

It took a while for him to realize that the baritone voice with the accent distinctive to all who had been born in this city had been directed at him. Of course, if he thought about it, he would've known as he was the only customer inside the cafe.

Directing his gaze towards the cafe au lait colored master, who was currently polishing a glass with a white tea towel, Suzuki replied: "Yes, it is the rainy season after all. It seems that it will continue to rain until tomorrow."

"I'm certain that this is the Weather Wizard's actions."

The scary faced giant issued words with a big grin on his red face. Suzuki let out a polite smile at the obscure reference of a pre-quirk fictional character as the master inadvertently made a bitter smile.

"... When you tell a joke, it will lose its effect if you make a face like that, Mike."

"Geh... "

This was the scene inside the coffee shop and bar, **Stellaris Cafe & Bar**, where the cafe's shopkeeper Mike Wozawscki was groping his face and brows for 'making a face like that'. Watching the man whose fierce face could make children immediately start to cry grope about in a puzzled manner, Suzuki lightly laughed out. He then quickly raised the cup in his hands to his lips and gulped down some of the coffee.

How should he react to Suzuki's laugh? Right after, the bell on the door frame rang as the entrance opened and another customer came in. Suzuki watched as Mike placed the glass and towel on the counter and grab a pen and notepad. Turning back to the window, he watched the streets once more and ignored the conversation between the shopkeeper and the new customer.

It had been more or less two months since he had landed here in New York and it was filled with nothing but stress. It had been a grueling fight against HeavyArms Industries filled with much wet work and mildly illegal actions, but in the end they had won. He sighed to himself as he remembered all those sleepless nights he and Hiyori had to pull in order to successfully acquire the hostile company. In fact, it was because of one of those sleepless nights that had led him and his wife to this little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. Laughter entered his ears, as he glanced towards the counter to the back, he saw Mike and a black haired young man build a rapport with some jokes. He hid a grin behind his glass as he saw the giant of a man subtly check out his companion with an appreciative eye. _Good for him_, he had thought as he went back and minded his business.

Looking out the window, Suzuki continued his people watching and amused himself with the antics of those that he had seen. It was incredible what people do when they think no one is looking at them. He laughed as he saw a woman slap her boyfriend after catching him looking at another woman with leering eyes. Catching a glimpse of long black hair in the corner of his eye while nursing his coffee, he sighed as the thought of his wife entered his mind. Usually, both of them would enter the cafe together and relax while spending some time in each other's company, but with the recent issues they had discovered after the acquisition, Hiyori had to stay behind to handle the fallout.

"Tch... "

He clicked his tongue as a scowl crossed his lips as he thought about the clusterfuck they had found after three days of perusing through the various records of HeavyArms.

"We really hit the mother lode didn't we?" he muttered underneath his breath.

A hidden safe had been discovered by one of the clerks he had sent to their recently acquired company's headquarters to collect all relevant documents in the company archives. Within that safe were documents that heavily implicated HeavyArms Industries in extensive money laundering, hostile takeovers, backroom deals, and direct connections to one of the most terrifying villains that the world had ever known; one that through extensive and deadly investigations, had been known to exist since the Dawn of the Quirk Era.

Stifling a groan that built up from within his throat, Suzuki allowed the cool glass rest upon his forehead to numb his throbbing headache. Hiyori, his precious Hiyori, had been busy all morning cooperating with various government agencies to deal with this sudden discovery. Blank eyes, unseeing as they were focused on past events, fixed into a point in space as he thought, _Who would have thought that those documents were such a big deal?_

Feeling a buzz in his pocket, Suzuki was brought out of his daze, and ran a finger at the back of his right ear. He traced the slight curve of his mastoid, touching upon a strip of silvery metal, tightly adhered to his skin by a bio-adhesive, which dimly glowed a whitish-blue light. As he did so, the buzzing in his pocket stopped, and - unseen to all but him - a group of icons lined up to the left of his sight just as a white, translucent window appeared at the center of his attention.

This strip of silvery metal, was one of the most recent innovations by Avalon Tech., a subsidiary of his corporation. It was a recent product that was just announced last month and was supposed to be available by May next year. This strip of metal, an inch long and .005 mm thick, was their safer alternative to neural implants: The Newtype Communication System, or otherwise known as, the NT-C. It connects to a person's brainwave pattern and provides an augmented reality vision by connecting to a personal terminal, or their DDR and allows them to use their functions through thought operation. As the head and owner of Avalon's parent company, Suzuki had received a prototype for the beta-test.

Focusing his attention on the translucent screen in front of him, it suddenly grew opaque and presented him with a picture, a name and a phone number, and an 'Accept' or 'Decline' option. Golden pupils slightly widened in surprise as he saw the name of the person who had called him. With a quick thought, he accepted the call, and the screen was highlighted in green.

Taking a matching silver wireless earpiece from his pocket, Suzuki placed it in his ear and said, "Alfred, is something the matter?"

In front of him, framed by a green bordered screen, was a man well past his prime and was approaching the latter part of his fifties with receding black hair. Wrinkles were scarce on his kindly face, atypical for one of his age while laugh lines were deep in the corner of his eyes. Although Suzuki could only see his top half, he could tell that the man was dressed as impeccable as ever in his swallowtail suit.

"Good afternoon, Master Suzuki - or is it evening already?"

A slight smile deepened his wrinkles as his kindly servant offered his greetings. Alfred Copperprice, although occupying the same job as that of Izuku Midoriya, was different from his daughter's personal servant. Alfred was the head butler of the Yaoyorozu household and served the family as a whole, as a result, his loyalty was mainly to the head of the family; in this case, it was to Suzuki, himself. While Izuku strives to fulfill his daughter's needs and wants, Alfred's duty was to the preservation of the estate and the service to the family.

"It is already the evening, Alfred." He smiled as he said, "While it is good to hear from you old friend, why did you call me?"

Alfred only called him once a week as he trusted the old butler to do his job. Alfred had already contacted him two days ago to give his weekly report, and as such, he did not expect him to call him again. Most of the time, he and his wife only received regular calls from his daughter, and sometimes, Izuku, who would tell them of what they had missed while they are away from home.

"Did something happen, Alfred?"

"Yes, something did happen, Master Suzuki." Alfred started with a patient and stoic tone, but then immediately showed a small amused grin at the sight of his master's panicked face. Feeling that it might be bad if the head of the household fell into incoherent worrying, he immediately added: "Though it is nothing bad or something to worry about."

Worried heart beating hard in his chest, Suzuki fell back into his seat in relief. Although this wasn't the longest he and his wife spent away from home for business trips, it still didn't change the fact that he worried for his household. Momo may be his daughter, Izuku may be the son he had never had, and the other servants in his estate were all as if family to him; it was how he had treated them even before his wealth had grown to what it currently was.

"What happened Alfred?" he asked after taking a deep breath.

"It is nothing so worrying, Master Suzuki,"

Alfred demurred with a shallow bow of apology. A small amount of regret was evident on his face for the fact that he had added to the worry that his master had felt. After serving the head of the Yaoyorozu Ichizoku for two decades and a half, he could tell that the master had constantly thought of those who were under his house. This character trait, was one of the reasons why the servants and employees were so loyal to the Yaoyorozu. They were a family that genuinely cared and protected their own, and so, Alfred immediately began to explain:

"Although unusual, the young master had caused a surprising stir this morning."

Suzuki sighed in relief after hearing that it was nothing worrying, and glared into the video image of his faithful servant shown to him through augmented reality, " - This morning? And? What did Izuku do?"

Young Master. Though Izuku may be a servant to his daughter, his status among the estate's servants couldn't be any higher. Young master, they call him behind his back - a title they had given him in great respect. His daughter's butler may be young, but his work ethic, his loyalty, his care; those traits touched their hearts. Hiyori who had heard the young man's newly earned title one day had squealed so loud that she had alerted the guards who were standing by the gates seven hundred fifty meters away.

_We won't be waiting long until we get a son!_, she said with glittering eyes and a wide smile. Remembering that eccentric reaction from his usually placid wife, he couldn't help but sigh in fond exasperation.

"The young master has picked up a stray," was his servant's stolid reply.

"A stray?"

Suzuki furrowed his brows in confusion._ How was that surprising?_, he thought. Although it was unusual, it was not rare for Izuku to sometimes bring back stray animals that he sometimes picked up. In fact, from what he could remember, most of the animals that freely roamed the estate were animals that his daughter's butler had found wounded or abandoned.

"What's so unusual about a stray? Izuku brings back animals he finds, Alfred, everyone knows that," his tone was quite puzzled as he said that. A memory of black and white entered his mind and he startled as a possible reason revealed itself.

" - Don't tell me...?! Did that child bring back another unusual animal?!" His mind conjured an image of a gaping maw, filled with teeth so sharp that they sheared through metal, of claws so powerful, that they left tremors upon each step. He remembered rippling muscle beneath fine black and white fur, and a body that towered over most men.

"Did he bring back another Tama?!"

Though the name seemed like it should belong to a harmless house cat, Alfred could certainly say that the one this name belonged to was no tame pet. A twitching brow was the only tell that Alfred showed as he heard the fading roar that came from the mountains at the back of the estate. _Truly, the young master has... interesting... tastes, in pets_, he thought as another echoing roar was heard. As one of the only examples of Mutata Animalis, Tama, a white Bengal Tiger the young master had rescued from abuse in a zoo during one of the family's trips in Africa, stood over three meters tall and four meters from head to tail. Possessing the quirk 'Light Speed', Tama was one of the fastest - if not _the_ fastest - living creatures in the world.

... And that monstrosity was utterly loyal to no one but its savior: Izuku Midoriya. Alfred could only admire the sheer nerve his fellow servant displayed in the face of that creature.

"No, I am afraid it is something worse, Master Suzuki."

_Worse_, Suzuki creased his brows in confusion as he wondered what could possibly worse than 660 kilograms worth of muscle that could pounce on you in light speed?

"The young master has adopted a child."

_... ... Eh?..._

" - And the young mistress had adopted her too. Though, it may not be an official adoption, it would seem that the both of them had become greatly attached to the waif."

_... What?..._

"Currently, the both of them are shopping for clothes for whom the maids had begun to call as 'Eri hime-sama'. I must say, congratulations are in order, Master Suzuki. You and the Mistress are now grandparents. It is a joyous occasion, is it not?"

Deeply, his servant bowed to him while smiling wide in joy. _The family line will continue!_, such thoughts must certainly be within the aging servant's mind. All those who had lived within the walls of the Yaoyorozu estate had been witness to the growing relationship between the young mistress and her butler. They had all seen their interactions and perhaps, with this sudden adoption of a child, it wouldn't be long before the young master officially became the Young Master. _If they were to be engaged before high school ends, I will finally win that bet!_ Alfred's devious thoughts were contrary to the innocent expression on his face. Plots and plans ran within the, surprisingly, mischievous servant's mind all the while the Master of the Household only had one thought:

_... WHAT?!..._

**(-)**

"Thank you for coming! Please come again!"

The cheerful voice of the young cashier entered his ears, yet it was not something he paid any mind. Seemingly frail and skinny hands swung as it carried a single bag filled with his purchase. Shadowed and glowing blue eyes looked into the streets; alert and sharp. He saw a pair - a young mother and son - as they passed by him. As the mother glanced at his direction, he noticed how she tried to hide the twisting of her features and her hurried gait as she pulled her son along; disappearing into the crowd.

He sighed. He knew why she had reacted that way. He knew, but it didn't lessen the hurt any. The disgust he saw on her face was a common sight that he had experienced everyday for the past five years and he could fully understand why they would react that way, but, it still made him question whether what he was doing was still worth it.

He was unpleasant to look at. That was the truth of the matter.

Blonde hair that once shined like the sun but now could only be described as dry with the color of straw, fell down over his head in a long, scruffy mess. His features were gaunt as skin stretched over bones giving him an overall ghastly appearance as an oversized white shirt and pants - that seemed as if it was at least four sizes bigger - laid over his overly thin body. Although he was tall, his ever-present slouch made him look so much smaller; something that only added to his desolate appearance. In all truth, he looked like a dying man.

_How far I have fallen_, Toshinori Yagi thought as he lamented his unkind fate.

A sharp throb originating from the left side of his chest made him gasp lowly and instinctively grasp it with a hand. Pain tore through his mind, and even though it had been his constant companion for the last five years, this feeling had never gotten duller. It was only the soothing energies of his quirk that had kept him going and had diluted most of the pain as otherwise, he wouldn't be able to move at all. Pulling out a bottle of soda, he opened it and drank as he discretely wiped a drop of blood from his lips.

If Toshinori were to be honest, he was honestly tired.

Pausing by a store window, he looked at his reflection, and remembered better times that had passed him by. He could still remember when his hair was as bright as the sun, when his face did not resemble that of a skeleton, when his body was not so emasculated and was actually full with muscles that could - and had - carried mountains on his shoulders. He remembered when he did not look like death had been leading him by his hand.

He remembered when he was still All Might, The Symbol of Peace.

Now... he was only a shadow of his former self; a feeble husk whose waning strength could only keep up the illusion for so long. The fight he had five years ago had started his decline and lowered his strength. His hold on One for All was getting weaker and with his control of his quirk weakening, his time as a hero was on a countdown. His time as the Symbol of Peace, was over.

Once more, Toshinori sighed to himself. He struggled to keep a neutral expression on his face as truthfully, he wanted to scream - to cry out in frustration. Five years of dealing with this desire had not numbed it nor had it tempered any.

If Toshinori were to be honest, he wanted to give up. He wanted to sit in a corner and mourn. He had lost a lot of things in his life. He was left behind by a lot of people important to him. He wanted to give up and say _'I have done enough'_ and rest. He wanted to join all those who meant the most to him.

\- But, he still couldn't. Not now, not when he still had so much to do.

_... A flash of black hair..._

_... A streak of black and white and yellow..._

_... A smile so wide and full of hope..._

_... The feeling of a hand on his head, ruffling it in motherly affection..._

_... ... ... ... "Toshinori," A bloodied smile directed at him as they raised their fist and pointed at him. Their eyes glowed as powerful as ever with will so great. "It's your turn... "... ... ... ..._

No, he couldn't give up now. Not when things still had to be done! If he were to do so, Nana would be very disappointed in him. She would never forgive him. Shaking his head, he emptied his bottle with vigor.

"Right," he said to himself with a hoarse whisper. Willing his damaged heart to beat with enthusiasm, "I still have around forty to fifty minutes of time left, so I better make it count. I have a job to do after all."

Toshinori Yagi was a man filled with regrets. He was a man who had experienced many tragedies; things that would have a lesser man fall to his knees. But not him - no, he was not a lesser man. If there was one thing that was true for Toshinori Yagi, whether it was this one or the others in multiple kaleidoscopic worlds, it was that he was a fool.

He was the fool that dared to dream. He was the fool that decided that the world needed a symbol, one that could be looked up to, one that would deter those with malign interests. He was the fool that wanted to save everyone he could see. He was the fool that dared to be the pillar of this tumultuous society. Toshinori Yagi was an utter fool...

_... But he was also a Hero and heroes never give up!_

"HELP! HELP! THIEF!"

A sharp scream tore through the air, stunning all who could hear it. Glowing blue eyes darted to the left just as something passed him by. Eyes that were once lowered in desolation, sharpened not unlike the edge of a katana.

"Hahaha! Fool, you'll never catch me!"

His lips thinned as he saw a woman in threadbare clothes desperately chase after a man who was either made of slime or mud. Either way, Toshinori could say that the man looked repulsive. That was to say nothing of the villain's character as he threw insults towards his victim as Toshinori could see his visible delight in the face of her desparation.

"Hey, shouldn't anyone stop that?" he heard one of the civilians around him ask.

"Nah, the heroes will take care of it."

"Where are the heroes anyway?"

"I heard that there was an incident near the train station."

"People like that are really annoying! When are the heroes going to show up?"

He wanted to glare at them. He wanted to release his frustration at them for those words. He wanted to do so much to let them know of his displeasure for those thoughts, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. Although he was no longer as great as he once was, Toshinori Yagi was a hero and heroes would not do such things. As his desire to glare at them lessened, all that he could think of them was, _How... disappointing_. Was this really how the populace thinks when a crime happens right in their faces? Would they truly do nothing?

_True Heroes... they are a dying breed indeed._

"Time for work," he sighed as he closed his eyes.

_... As he did so, light, transparent steam rose from his body as his mind came to a place - a visualization of the legacy he had been handed by the person he had once valued the most. He could see it, the vast pillar that stretched to connect the skies, the lands and the seas. Damaged heart beat to the rhythm of the multitude of colors that were reflected unto its surface..._

_... It was a Symbol of Infinity; an Anchor that tethered reality_. _A container whose sole purpose was to store and process that which moves ever onward. It was the representation of the Linear Axis. The proof of the desire for salvation. It was the _Illusion of Salvation for All_ made manifest. Light burst in a kaleidoscopic multitude from the sky as it descended in unprecedented speed. This was his power, this was his legacy... this was his history. This, is ONE FOR ALL..._

Power. Power filled his being as if there was nothing in this world or beyond that can stand up to his might. It was a heady feeling, Toshinori could admit, and it was not something he liked to dwell in for long lest he fall into the sweet whispers of temptation. Time reversed as he returned to how he once was. Skin stretched over bone, stretched once more as his physique filled out underneath his oversized shirt with muscles that could split the skies. His gaunt face changed as he no longer looked like death warmed over; handsome features returning once more to how he was before while a large smile made its way on to his lips. Hair that had once lost its color - its life - gleamed under the noonday sun. Passing a hand through them, they settled into his signature cut.

A booming laughter caught all that could hear's attention. It was boisterous, it was loud. It was also extremely familiar. Turning towards their source, eyes widened at the extremely recognizable existence among them. He was a giant among ants, and some would even say that he was a God among men. None of those who see him would ever mistake him for another.

"**Have no fear**...,"

He was an existence that stood out at the top with none that could rival him. None could compare with him, whether it was through power, wealth, or influence; he was a King unequaled by all. His name is...

"**I am Here!**"

All Might.

**(-)**

Newest chapter is out! Sorry for the long delay. Things got busy at work and I didn't have much time to work on the chapter. I actually had over half of the chapter done and I was planning to release it on the 27th of July but then work picked up and suddenly, I had no more time for this. Still, its better late than never right?

Anyway, the Entrance Exam Arc is almost here and I'll do my best to flesh out a satisfying story. Peace out!


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